samcatcher - Tumblr blog

[samcatcher]

When in London.

chapter 10. masterpost

The note I wrote in the journal was gone. My preparation was gone gone gone and all I could do was stand there with my mouth wide open as my brother and my- his- lover smiled at me, trying to welcome me, trying to hide what’s just been uncovered.

Jean stayed laying in the bed. Frozen. I was surprised he could even look at me. I was appalled that he could look at me. That- SCOUNDREL.

-What the fuck are you doing here?- Jean asked me. Trying to pass it off as a joke, trying to be casual- as casual as possible. Trying to make me laugh?

-Why the fuck are you in bed with my brother?- I screamed, in English. Retaliation was one of my strong suits when I argue, specifically with Jean. I always know what to say back. Michael as well, seeing as he’s my brother, we’ve had our series of spats. However, this was more than just a spat.

Neither of them said anything. I knew they both understood what I said but they didn’t know what to say. Fucking twats.

I watched their faces shift in front of me. Kind faces turned to strangers. Gnashing teeth and bright red eyes. Demon horns slowly pushed through their skulls. Blood dripped down their heads and I imagined them screaming in pain on the floor. Crawling to each other for support. While I stood and watched. My jaw grinding.

My brother decided he would try to flee the scene. But I didn’t let him. I slammed the door closed and stood against it. I pressed myself against the cold wood. My crazy eyes pierced into them. Penetrating them.

Michael stood close to me now, still trying to get to the door. I moved closer. He could feel my breath as I said;

“You are not leaving until I have answers.”

“Sit down.” I firmly added. I looked into each eye. Left, right. Left, right.

Michael sat down on the edge of the bed. Jean was still stuck in place. He glanced at Michael and then looked back at me. I directed my eyes to him.

-How long?- I asked, calmly. In a customer service voice. In a sweet, no offense voice.

-A couple of weeks.- My brother said. He stayed fixed on the floor now. He bit his lip, as he does when he lies. I shook my head and that caught Jean's sour attention.

-No, there’s no need to lie to her. She knows when you lie. Lyla, it has been going on for 17 months.- Jean added to my Michael’s statement. He didn’t even seem ashamed. He acted as if he was conversing with a friend, he acted as if I had just met him, and he was simply describing his partner. He literally smiled and nodded at me after the fact.

-seventeen fucking months.- Is all I could say. I repeated it a good 5 times before I got sick of screaming. Whispered it to myself, mumbled it. Mouthed it. After I had finished repeating it, it stuck in my head. Seventeen months. Seventeen months. Seventeen months. Seventeen months. Seventeen months. Seventeen months.

-You love him?- I directed at Jean. He looked at Michael. Michael looked back at him. They didn’t reply. Not until they saw my mouth open again. God they loved to interrupt me. They fucking loooooved to interrupt me.

-I love you.- Jean said. Michael stammered over his words and tried to also express his love for me.

-Lyla I- I love you too, you're my sister, my soeur.-

I laughed, hysterically.

-You both love me? You both adore me, yeah? Fuck you. Fuck. you. Pigs.- I replied. They did love each other. I thought about their toothbrushes. Their contrasting towels. The bedroom they shared. Coffee in the morning. Tea at night. Honey! I'm home! Scumbags. Liars, cheaters, selfish. Pigs

-You disgust me. Both of you. Pigs.- I screamed as a final word. Then I left the room and I didn’t look back.

I don't know what they did after. Don't know if they broke up, stayed together, or got married. I never spoke to either of them again. I never went home for christmas, I never answered the facetimes from my family. I knew Michael would try. It was because of him that I abandoned my family. There was something deep inside of me that would bubble to the surface every time my surname was mentioned. I didn’t associate with any of them anymore, all because of him. I hoped they all resented him for it.

Fuck them all. Fuck France. I never spoke a word of French ever again after that. And when I got married, my fiance suggested paris. I wanted to leave him. But that’s a story for another day.

The walk from that room to the nearest hotel felt like 20 seconds. Time went from moving so slow to so fast. My mind was occupied with everything that happened. My life, how two years of love and stress and hurt and crying had all been for nothing. My legs moved at a pace which I don’t even remember. I only realized I had a build up of toxic lactic acid in all of my leg muscles when I reached the hotel and brought myself back to reality to speak to the receptionist.

-I need a room. I need a room and if you don’t have one I’ll sleep on that chair.- I said in English, then I pointed to the worn down arm chair in the reception area where I was standing. The lady behind the desk was a young girl. She looked about 17. She stared at me with concern, then looked down at the computer to see if they were fully booked.

-We have– she cleared her throat. -we have a twin room available, you want it right now I’m guessing?- She replied in perfect English, but with a strong Parisian accent.

-Yes. Sorry, I didn;t mean to come across rude, Ive- Ive had a night.- I apologized, she looked at me sympathetically but she didn’t reassure me that it was okay.

-Room 207, second floor.- She said in a business tone, then she slid me over a keycard. I took it and thanked her.

I came back to France to look for relief and instead I got a heartbreak so much more intense than I expected. So much more. That night I cried myself to sleep. I couldn’t even think about Sam. I just thought about how love is dead. About how the world still continued to selfishly spin after this. Neither of them even had the decency to call. I blocked their numbers about a week after, just in case they called. They never did though.

In the morning I woke up so early to get the first train back home. I kept telling myself I could be depressed there. That was the plan. That train took what felt like years to arrive in london. The whole time I was in tears. Angry tears, sad tears, relief tears. Jean was finally gone, but why like this? I couldn’t listen to music, couldn’t read or write. I just stared at an advert for bellyaches and heartburn for the whole time. Silently resenting everything. Wanting to kill everything.

Why did I have to catch him in bed with my own brother? Was it some kind of karma? I knew I deserved it but I didn't think I needed this much. I know I kissed Sam but I was going to Paris to tell him. I didn’t fuck his sister for a year and 5 months, get an apartment with her and keep in a secret. I would never do something so evil.

I got off the train and took my now familiar walk back to my flat. Walking in I saw Amelia, Sam, Danny, Jake, and Josh in the living room together. I ignored them all and went up to my bed. I regret that now. I needed people. I needed to see, at that moment, that there were decent people. I also regret what I did next.

A few minutes after I had gotten my pajamas on and wiped my eyes for what felt like the millionth time, I heard a knock at my door.

Sam came in before I even asked him to, and he sat next to me. Not saying anything. His presence was warm. I needed it more than I wanted to.

-You cry so much.- He said without looking at me.

-I just caught Jean in bed with my older brother.- I stated. I figured if there was anyone who I should tell, it would be sam.

-you have an older brother?- He asked.

I looked at him quizzically. I smiled, giggled a little.

-I have an older brother, I told you.- I replied. It was as if nothing happened as soon as I looked into his eyes. Nothing was wrong anymore. I didn’t want him to go.

-Why did you go to Paris?- He asked.

-To leave him, to tell him I kissed you, and to tell him that kissing you was not a mistake. I didn’t even get to tell him though, he was too busy with his dick in my brother.- my voice was monotone. I had no shock left, I had sweat it all out, cried it all out. Screamed it all out. I had screamed out every feeling I could. I was just tired now. Even though it was mid afternoon.

-Can I play you something?- He said. I nodded.

He came in a few minutes later with that damn guitar. He didn’t look me in the eye as he sat down right next to me on my bed and bit his lip, thinking about what he should play.

-I’ve never known how to talk.- He said, still looking away from me. I didn’t reply.

-So, I think that music is the only way I can talk sometimes.- He added, looking at me finally.

-It works.- I said.

Sam shifted his hands into a chord and stared at the fretboard. Then with one last look at me, he started talking. Unexplainable magic was created with the way he presents his words through vibrations of the strings, and much like our kiss, every word was understood.

He played for almost ten minutes, starting slow then building up, only to go back to a soft lullaby which began to lull me to sleep. I eventually completely fell into slumber with him next to me. Dropping in and out of sleep, I felt him put the guitar down on the floor gently, then move closer to me and stroke my hair.

I was abruptly awoken by movement at around 6 pm. Sam was still there next to me, half asleep but with his eyes open, he smiled as I turned and looked at him.

-I don’t want you to go, Sammy.- I whispered.

-You haven’t eaten anything..- He replied, stroking my hair again.

I just shook my head.

Sam leaned in and placed his forehead on mine. Then he opened his mouth to speak and closed it again.

-I’m sorry that it didn’t go to plan.- He said.

Tears filled my eyes and he held me as I sobbed. Then my heart took over and I kissed him as hard as I could. My salty tears falling on his cheeks. He gave in immediately and placed his hands all over me, I did the same.

-Fuck me like you love me.- I whispered to him.

He rolled over on top of me and began kissing my neck while trailing his fingers around my navel. I shifted his attention so I could take his shirt off, he then copied my movement and pulled me up to a sitting position so he could strip me off too. Eventually we were skin to skin from the waist up.

He pushed me back down again and put half of his weight on me. His hair hung down over my face and tickled my eyes. He pushed his hair out of the way then caressed my face. Staring into my being.

He then began kissing my neck again, this time cupping one of my breasts in his gracious hands. He kissed down my body and started nibbling the soft skin around my nipple. I groaned and ran my fingers through his hair. He then trailed himself down to my underwear and began pulling them off slowly. With a big smile on his face he looked at me one last time, then disappeared under the duvet covering me.

Not being able to see him made the next moment absolutely jaw dropping. I felt the most intense pressure right to the left of my clit. It was his mouth. The moan I let out was so loud. It made him suck harder, I didn’t even know he could apply more pressure than he was.

He continued sucking and licking and kissing all around and on my clit. Causing a range of different sounds and squirms coming from me. It truly was the best head I had ever received. After five minutes of unexplainable pleasure he stopped and started kissing my thighs and my navel, up my stomach and detouring at my breasts, then moving back to my neck. He then pressed his nose against mine and nodded for my approval for him to fuck me.

He moved my duvet completely off the both of us, revealing all of me to him. He didn’t look down, he continued looking into my eyes as I removed my hands from his hair to the waistline of his pajama shorts. He then helped me pull them down revealing his dick.

Now we were completely skin to skin, I couldn’t help but stare at what was in front of me. He smiled that smile again, then he crashed into me. His lips on mine. I was starting to get used to them. I can’t remember when I had stopped crying, all I felt now was bliss.

Finally, he pushed himself into me. Causing the world to stop around me. Causing all feelings to disappear except for that one. He started off slow, staring into my eyes with his hot breath on my neck. Slowly, lovingly. He was multitasking. Kissing, thrusting.

His hair kept falling back down in front of him. It annoyed him but I enjoyed it. I loved watching his waves caress multiple parts of me, gently dusting me. I couldn’t keep my lips away from his. His saliva was like an elixir. His tongue slowly entered my mouth. As he did it his thrusting became more staggered. The multitasking only went so far. I moved my hands down to his hips and pushed them, indicating I wanted more speed, more tension. He understood and started pounding himself into me. I let out a shriek. Sweat was beading on his forehead, which told me it was my turn. I stopped him and told him to lay down. Then I climbed on top.

I gripped his dick with my hands and held it still, then I raised myself up, high, to put it in. I slowly moved myself down and felt my tightness pull it in deeply. I looked into his eyes. His pupils were dilated, as if he was on drugs. I couldn’t make out his expression. It was like a hidden shock. No smile, just a blank face, but in his eyes I could tell he felt he was dreaming.

I grinded my clit on his slightly unshaven pubes, and moved my hips forwards and then up to pleasure the both of us. Sam’s hands slowly moved up my body. From my knees to my thighs. My thighs to my ass. My ass to my waist. My waist to my ribs. My ribs to my tits. My tits to my neck. He gently pressed his thumb on my windpipe. With his other hand he decided my ass needed more attention. Then unexpectedly, he slapped my ass. I squealed.

Then he moved his other hand back down and pushed me into him further. Holding me there. I couldn’t move my hips anymore.

-I just want to look at you.- He said.

I placed both my hands on his chest and leaned down to kiss him. He moved a piece of my hair out of my face and trailed his hand down my cheek. Then he snapped out of his loving spirit and showed me who he really was.

-Get off.- He said affirmingly. He released his grip on my hips and I did what he said, I got off and sat on the bed next to him.

-Lay down on your stomach.- He continued. He stroked down my back from my shoulders to above my ass. I lied on my stomach waiting for what was next.

-Arch.- Was my next direction from sam.

I slowly arched upwards, he grabbed my hips when I was at the right position. Then he didn’t spend any time finding where to place himself. He pounded into me. I instinctively grabbed the pillow in front of me.

Sam’s hands were symmetrically squeezing into either side of my hips, keeping me in place from the slippery sheets. He was pounding with a fast and hard rhythm, I wished I could see him. I could feel my ass ricocheting against him every time his groin hit me. He went from squeezing both hips, to just squeezing one with the pressure of too. He moved his other hand to my hair. Pulling my head back from off the pillow. I tried not to be loud, as there were people important to us downstairs. Sam didn’t seem to care. He wanted me to scream. He would go harder and more intense until I made a sound. As if my moaning was his music. Directing him to some perfect symphony.

He also didn’t care because he was making sounds. He was heavily grunting. Breathing. mmmmming. Then the talking started.

-You want me to fuck me like I love you?- He said through his grunts.

I let out a moan in response. He pulled my hair up more to get my head closer to his. I was arched onto my hands now, like a mountain lion. He got his face as close to mine as he could.

-Or you want me to fuck you like the slut that you are?- He asked. This time quieter, almost like a whisper. I turned my head enough to get a glimpse of him. He didn’t look angry. He looked blissful, relaxed, in pleasure.

-Go on, say it.- He added. I didn’t say anything.

-I want you to- I want you to..- I tried to get out but I couldn’t. I was too close to speak. Just one more sentence Sam. Just one more and I’m done. Just one more and you’ll have completed me.

-What do you want, baby?- He added again. In more of a sympathetic tone. That was it.

-I want, I want SAM, oh Sam.- I said, louder than I should have. I had reached my climax. I was beyond done. I needed a minute but he didn’t let me have one. He continued as he was, fast and rhythmically.

-That’s right. That’s right.- He slowly said as he slowed down and caressed my hips. Drew circles on my back. He knew now, he knew I needed a minute, he gave me one.

Now he was just slowly pulling back in and out. It was becoming more slippery for him, I knew he could feel the gush from my orgasm. I felt vulnerable but I didn’t mind.

after about a minute of the relaxed pushing from him, he sped up slowly again. Watching my body language in case it was too much. I allowed him to speed up, to finish himself off. I felt less sexy now but I still wanted him. It felt like a dream for me too, however my poker face was better.

The next few minutes consisted on repetitive movements and still hands as Sam focused on himself. I enjoyed it thoroughly and appreciated that he was a gentleman and let me have my time.

With both of us in a daze, he pulled out.

-Sit up.- He said as he was stroking himself. -Quickly.- He added impatiently. I sat perched on my knees, Sam remained on his. I stared at his hair slowly falling in front of his shoulders and his lips twitching while he prepared himself.

He then took his other hand and opened my mouth with his thumb. He pushed himself inside I instinctively started to suck. After a few seconds I felt pulsating and twitching in my mouth. It tasted like salt and sweat. It was warm dripping down my neck. Sam wiped my lips and kissed my head.

-Now you’ve eaten.- He said.

Then he got off my bed, put his underwear on and went straight to the shower. I didn’t follow him.

He’d been waiting seven years for this.

chapter 11

[samcatcher]

When in London.

chapter 9. masterpost

Sam and I stared at each other for a few moments. He was taking in my features, admiring me to calm himself down. I was trying not to admire him but it was hard. Even his guilty face made me feel some way. His knotted eyebrows, his hair falling in his face as his head remained down. The night time wind blowing through his hair. His lack of eye contact allowed me to stare at his honey brown eyes. He had a red nose and his hands were moving from picking his lips to playing with his fingers. At that moment all I wanted was for him to take me in his arms and tell me everything is fine.

As I was about to open my mouth Sam opened his, but he was avoiding my face now so he didn't know he had interrupted me.

-First of all, I’m just sorry. That’s- I think that’s what I need to start with.- He said clearly, but looking at the ground. He shook his head and did a small sigh to convey that he was angry with himself.

I nodded my head and placed my hand on his shoulder, slowly moving it down his arm and into his hand. It was an excuse just to touch him. Just to feel the slight warmth on his bare arms. I wanted to move his hair out the way but I didn’t, that would have been too much.

-Sam. An apology from me is what you need. Hell- if I was in your position, I would have snapped so much harder. Here's the thing— He cut me off. I closed my mouth straight away and looked up at him.

-Don’t say it. You don’t need to because I know already. My fantasy of you and me is just that. A fantasy. I don’t want to hear it from your mouth. It’ll hurt more than it already does.- He was starting to turn a slight pink color and his hands were getting hot. The way he said that was in a spat way. Not at me though, at himself. Sam was extremely disappointed in himself.

I squeezed his hand, making him look up at me. He did.

-It’s you, Sam. It’s you. I knew it from the moment I saw you. It’s you.- I assured. I looked into each eye, left, right, left, right. Sam remained expressionless. The only change was his eyebrows, Which slowly descended and formed an angry-confused face. He wasn’t relieved that I had just said that, he was concerned.

-You have a boyfriend, You’re in love, Lyla. I’m not wrecking that.- He replied. He stepped back from me, releasing my grip on him. Then he placed his hand on his head and shook.

I stared at him, confused. Wasn’t this what he wanted?

He took a deep breath and looked off the balcony. To the street below.

-I came here to say that I’m going to the hotel with Josh and Jake for the next two weeks. I’ve ruined so much. So much. I’m not going to stand in the way of my best friend’s relationship with one of his oldest friends. I’m certainly not going to stand in the way of her relationship with her lover either. I refuse to be part of a triangle. So I’m going. I don’t want it to seem like I was trying to run away from the argument, so I’m here to say I hold no grudge. I’d like to stay in contact with you, once I shake my feelings. I’m sorry Lyla. This is what I have to do- 

Silence. Ask me about the moon Sam. Talk about the moon Sam, not this.

I stared at him. Then suddenly my eyes started filling with tears, I couldn’t control them. He couldn’t even look at me. After a few seconds of silence he gently pulled his hand away from mine and got up from his seat, I got up right after. 

As he was about to leave the balcony, something came over me.

-Sam.- I grabbed his arm, making him turn around and look at me. His eyes were teary too. Which made my next move irresistible.

I faced his face, and took in every detail. I felt myself moving closer to him subconsciously. Close enough so that I could hear his staggered breaths. I looked down and rested my head against his chest. He tensed up trying to stop himself but he couldn’t. I had never been so close to him before. It was like a dream. I moved my head so that my ear rested on his chest and my face was looking at the sky. I could hear his heart thumping loudly and fast.

-Look at the moon tonight.- He said after a few seconds of being stiff, while I hung on to him, preventing him from getting away. I slightly cried onto his bare chest.

Sam moved his arms from beside his torso. With one he gently placed it around my waist. With the other he held my face and lifted it towards his lips. I saw his face up close above me in the light of the moon. He was just beautiful, everything I wanted. Everything moved in slow motion as he grazed his thumb across my bottom lip. I closed my eyes and sighed into him as he pulled my lips up to his. We almost made a connection, I could feel his breath on my peach fuzz above my lip. My eyebrows furrowed innocently. I was waiting. With hesitation he stopped completely and started to pull away. But I slammed myself into his lips eagerly. Taking in every part of him with both of my hands pressed into the back of his neck, then his boiling hot cheeks. He kissed me with tension, with actual love.

He gave himself into me and moved both of his hands to the start of my waist, leaving no room between us both. The kiss was slow and full of tension. All of the words I had left to say were in that kiss and he was listening. He was listening very well.

We kept tenderly kissing with our tongues slowly entering each other's mouths. Unaware of everything around us. He moved his hands, gyrating my hips, he wanted to touch my ass but he didn’t. I wanted him too. I combed my fingers through his hair and he moved one hand up to the back of my neck, gently squeezing. How did he know?

I released the kiss momentarily because I wanted to look at him, I wanted to look at what would become mine. His lips had turned pink and his pupils were so dilated that his eyes looked black. His breath was staggered, he was scared and he wanted to walk away from me. But he couldn’t, he was taking in the fact that he was so close to me after so many years of dreaming about it. He slowly caressed my cheek, he drew his thumb across my lip once again. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against mine. He had to crane his head down slightly. But we were close enough in height that he didn’t have to bend too much. 

He cried onto my cheeks silently. He was regretful. We didn’t speak for a moment. I was scared any words would ruin it.

-Now I really have to go, Lyla.-

It stung when he said my name.

I gently nodded and separated from him. The air became cold again. I picked up my journal and pen from the floor and walked back into the kitchen without saying goodbye. 

I had had enough. 

I didn’t sleep that night. I stared at the ceiling wondering what to do, how to fix it. I know Sam felt that way too. As I could hear him playing his acoustic all night. He was writing something. 

The constant strumming of the same chords and the increase in tempo and the pitch changes were starting to piss me off. Why would he choose to do that now? I decided to go down there to tell him to shut the hell up. Normally I would love to hear this, but I knew he was doing it to get my attention. 

I headed downstairs with a blanket around my shoulders and when I opened the door to the living room with an unamused expression I was met with Danny? Just Danny. 

-oh?- I exclaimed and lost my expression immediately.

Danny laughed because he knew I thought he was Sam. 

-I thought he told you? He’s gone to go stay with Jake and Josh at the hotel.- Danny replied. 

I nodded and sat down on Sam’s unoccupied couch. Danny stared at me then closed his notebook and put his guitar to the side. He looked at me for a while, a gentle smile on his face as always. He knew something was up with me, he has always known.

-He’s been my best friend for a really long time, Lyla. Like, a really long time. Ever since that night of the party, everytime we go somewhere new he says “what if she’s here.”- He eventually spoke. There was silence. 

-That makes me feel bad Daniel.- I spat. Without meaning to offend. 

-What I’m trying to say is, I know you. I know how you can be. I know you have feelings for him.- He stared at me quizzically after saying this. 

I didn’t reply. 

-He’s not gone. You can go and get him and he will come to you there is no way he would say no.- Danny reassured. 

I looked up at the ceiling trying not to cry. Because I knew that Danny was right. He would. No matter how I treated him he would come back. 

-I want him Danny. It feels like I have known him for decades. It feels like he is the only person in the world when I’m with him. I want him so much.- I eventually caved. 

-Then go. There’s only one thing that’s stopping you.-

That was the moment I decided for sure. I had to leave Jean. I had to leave the man that puts me through hell. My brain was telling me that everything that Jean has done, everything he does, is being dramatized because I don’t want to feel guilty for wanting someone else, but it was true what Amelia said. Jean was absent. Jean wanted negative attention. He didn’t even want to move with me. He didn’t even try to convince me to stay. He was never nice to me. I couldn’t help but think, almost always, that Jean was hiding something from me. From the moment we got together things felt off. 

That night I didn’t even pack. I just got a back full of essential things like my wallet and headphones and I walked out the door. My phone didn’t even charge all the way. I didn;t care though. Jean is too busy to call or text me.

I caught the latest train from London to France with 3 minutes to spare. and started thinking about what I was going to say. I brought the journal with me to draft a few things. 

“Bebe” no. I couldn’t call him that at the start of a breakup. 

“There’s something going on.” No, I can't just tell him about Sam straight away.  

“I don’t love you anymore.” No I can’t say that, it’s not true. 

“We’re not right for eachother Jean. You’re not there for me or for yourself and I don’t want to have to live with the burden of you anymore. I love you and I always will but I kissed Sam. I kissed him and it felt good. So I can’t be with you anymore. I’m sorry.” A bit forward but that's the best way to be with jean. He doesn’t like it when people say things that aren't necessary to say.

I wrote that in the journal on a page full of scribbles but I never said it. I never said it because when I got to Paris, what I found made my side of the relationship seem innocent compared to Jean.

I arrived in Paris at 3:30AM. It was hard to get to Jean’s new apartment. My brother had sent me the address ages ago but for some reason it took me a very long time to find it.

The streets of Paris were not asleep. There were still people walking and smoking. There were even people walking their dogs. There was still music playing. It was cold but not too cold. It was still summertime.

There were ladies in long brown boots and jackets, there were ladies in short dresses and heels slightly shivering. There were dog walkers on the phone doing late night business deals. Shops and bars were still open, even the movie theater where my brother worked was open. I peered in to see if I could spot him behind the desk but he wasn’t. Meaning that I’d have to go break up with Jean with Michael home.

Their apartment, which I eventually found, was situated behind a restaurant, above a small shop that sold electrical items and tools for carpenters and builders. It was a dirty old shop with its lights off. Shutters weren’t down, there must have been trust in Jean’s new community. I imagined him leaving his door unlocked and greeting all of his neighbors as he went to work in the morning. Then I shook it off because that's a Sam thing to do, not a jean thing.

When I looked up at the place above me, only one light was on. Who was awake? Were they in the same room? Strangely, I was right about the trust of the neighborhood, because the door was unlocked and slightly ajar. This isn’t like Jean, was it an accident? Did he rush home from London and come straight here?

I thought maybe he was upstairs vigorously getting his uniform on and getting ready to leave because he was called in. But that was hours ago, wouldn’t he be at home in bed by now?

I hesitated but opened the door. I saw my brothers shoes and Jean’s shoes in a small porch. The only thing I could see past the porch was a small set of stairs. Jean lived in a condominium too, why didn't he tell me? 

There was a mirror on the wall to the left of me. It was extremely dark inside so I left the front door open a bit so the street lights could bleed into the porch. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and noticed how tired I was. My face was sagging and puffy but my eyes were wide with ambition. The only thing that drove me to do this was Sam. If it wasn’t for Sam, what I would have found in the next 5 minutes would drive me to unimaginable things. 

I put my bag down on the floor next to the door and took off my shoes. I left the front door as it was and left it ajar, not closed. Then I slowly made my way up the stairs.

As I inched closer to the top of the stairs, I started to hear faint repetitive sounds. I couldn’t figure out what it was. Maybe a faulty washing machine? Maybe he’s trying to fix a squeaky door? Broken fan? Karaoke night? Nightmare?

I kept walking up the stairs and as I set foot on the landing of the flat, the noises were not indistinguishable anymore. It was sex! My brother was having sex with someone extremely loudly in what I guessed was his room. God. It’s gonna make it hard to break up with Jean with this going on in the background.

I chose to ignore that sound and walk away from it. Going into the next room I saw that had a closed door. When I opened the door though, all I found was a dark living room with one sofa and a small TV. No one was in there, I even checked if Jean was sleeping on the sofa but he wasn't.

I left the living room and counted the rest of the doors. Kitchen, was open, I could see the sink. Bathroom? That was the next room I went in, once again it was dark. There was a bath and a shower. Two toothbrushes in a cup by the sink. All of their products were laid out on the bathroom windowsill together. Two towels on the towel rail. Jean definitely lived here.

That was it. Those were the only doors. The only room which remained now was the slightly ajar door to what seemed like Michael's lively bedroom. But it didn’t make sense to me. Why would they get a one bedroom apartment together? Jean told me it was two.

I started to think that maybe Jean didn’t actually live here and those products and that toothbrush was a boyfriend michael had staying over. Michael is never open with me about that sort of thing, maybe I was intruding on Michael and his lover. Not mine.

That’s exactly what I was doing. 

I pulled my phone out and called Jean. I was so tired. I was debating on whether or not to go back outside, pretend I hadn’t already snuck in, call Michael and ask if I could crash on his couch.

I snuck back downstairs as I prepared to dial Jean’s number. I left the apartment and sat on the street right outside. Jean picked up the phone after 4 rings.

“Where are you?” I asked.

“At home, why?” He replied. He was slightly breathless.

I hung up the phone, okay, that’s that. He’s lied about living with michael. He’s probably got some double life with some other woman who only speaks French and listens to everything he's got to say. Nice.

So that’s when I decided to call Michel.

It rang for about a minute, then it went to voicemail. Nice one Mike. Too busy wetting your willy to call your sister. I felt numb at this point. I just wanted somewhere to sleep. I knocked on the apartment door, what I thought was loudly, to try and pry him off this secret boyfriend he was upstairs with. Then I entered the apartment. Keeping my shoes on this time to be purposely disrespectful.

I walked up the stairs quickly, trying to make as much noise as possible. It didn’t work, he was still all up in there.

“MIKE!” I called out loudly, that seemed to finally stop them.

“Is that Lyla?” Michael said. Weird, why is he asking his boyfriend if that’s me. Was his boyfriend someone I knew? I decided to stay quiet. To try and see a confused reaction.

There was banging and rustling. I was standing right outside the door now. Secret boyfriend had nowhere to hide. If he wanted to leave he'd have to come right past me.

I waited for a while, got bored, decided to open the door, praying he was decent.

“For fuck sake Michael, answer the phone someti-” I stopped. Michael was definitely decent, the other guy wasn’t though. I was right too, I certainly did know the other guy.

Tall, built, half Jamaican, half white french. Big brown eyes. Familiar uniform sprawled across the floor. Jean lay naked in the bed. Attempting to hide his shame. Attempting to act asleep, as if I had not just heard.

Michael, now just standing in his underwear, looked up at me. Smiled at me, attempting to also act as if I had not just heard.

I also attempted to act like I had not just heard, for about 20 seconds. Then the rage built up in me. Cold blooded, full rage.

chapter 10.

[samcatcher]

When in London.

chapter 8. masterpost

To make up for his absence yesterday, when we were supposed to do something nice for the day, Jean woke me up with a cup of tea and a tender kiss. That’s how I knew he wasn’t mad anymore, I decided not to bring it up. It’s not like he would have much to say.

After I thanked him with a smile, I went downstairs to try and see how Sam was doing. Yet, he wasn’t there, neither was Danny.

-They’ve gone out with Jake and Josh, some sort of LGBTQ+ charity event, they’re playing there and Josh is doing an interview I think.- Amelia said from behind me.

-Oh okay.- I simply replied. Amelia gestured for me to sit down as she passed me and sat on the living room sofa, littered with Sam’s blankets that he never puts away.

-So, I met Jean, I also heard an argument last night. What’s going on?- Amelia asked, concerned.

-Ami I don’t know what to do. Sam is literally in love with me. He has been since he met me at that party apparently. I thought he was just ‘nice.’ I thought that I could have a new friend but now I feel betrayed. He wasn’t being nice for the sake of it, he wanted to win me over. I just feel so stupid.- I blurted quickly. Amelia stayed staring, she knew I had more to say.

I walked over to the living room door and closed it, so Jean didn’t hear.

-But at the same time, sometimes I wish that Jean never existed. So I could sneak along the corridor with Sam. It feels like he just knows me, more that Jean ever will.- I said as I walked back over to the sofa.

-The main thing you shouldn’t feel is stupid Lyla. It’s obvious you’re going to look to someone else to fulfill you, look at the way Jean treats you. You weren’t even here an hour without him calling you and shouting about something.- Amelia sounded as if she had been waiting to say this for ages. 

I put my head in my hands.

-Now I’ve upset Sam, he confronted me yesterday. I never told him about Jean Ami. I led him on and it wasn’t fair on him.- I said, tears in my eyes.

Amelia reached her arm around me and rubbed my back, I held back my tears, there was a man upstairs waiting for me to get ready for a date. 

-you know what you want, Lyla-

I wanted Sam. 

I nodded and thanked Amelia, then I headed back upstairs to Jean, who was smoking on the balcony.

-What’s the plan for today?- I asked.

-Well, we’re in smelly London, we could go to a bar, a park, maybe a museum?- Jean replied, looking off into the distance.

-Museum.- I said nodding, then I walked back to my room to make a museum outfit.

-

 The day I had with Jean was actually really nice. We went to eat lunch before the museum. Just some cafe we found near Regent street. It was a beautiful small cafe, rushing with quiet customers on their computers and ordering all day breakfast.

Jean didn’t enjoy eating there, what a surprise. He hated the small things. He was a snob.

After we ate we walked down the museum. This one specifically had the Vincent Van Gough sunflowers painting, so that would be exciting to see.

We wandered around the museum for hours. Both of us taking everything in but not speaking, then following each other out of the room after finally intently looking at every painting.

When we finally got to the sunflowers painting, there was a crowd around it, it took us a while to get to the front after people dissipated in front but built up behind us. 

Seeing a piece of art like that right in front of you is an incredible feeling, as if you could still smudge the paint. You can see every brush stroke and it feels wrong to look so closely. As if you’re invading the privacy of History. That day I realized that that feeling is similar to how I feel when I look at Sam for too long.

I think that realization stopped time for a few seconds. It caused Jean to break his silence and ask me if I was ready to go.

I was ready to go alright. Ready to go and find Sam and leave Jean. Ready to start a new life with a nice man who plays me to sleep and paints my walls. The man who has loved me since I was locked in my best friend's garden at 14. The man who has been looking for me and never gave up. Then played it cool when he found me again.

The man with the same birthday as me, the same music taste, the same language.

I needed Sam. It was so hard to accept it with my boyfriend standing right there but-

I will always need Sam.

-lyla.-

I snapped out of it and turned around smiling. I took Jean’s hand and we walked out of the museum together. I was drafting in my head what I needed to say to Jean. Just as I was about to open my mouth his phone started ringing. The name on the phone was the Same as my brother’s.

-is my brother calling you?- I asked

-No, a work friend has the same name as your brother. I have to take this.- Jean replied

He walked a few feet away and answered the phone. Mumbling in french and pacing a little bit. A few minutes later he ended the phone and looked at me nervously.

-Lyla, baby, I’m so sorry. Work has called me in because there's a massive emergency. I need to go home tonight. A lot of people are injured and there’s threats of a second attack.- He said anxiously.

Jean took his job very seriously. He worked as a firefighter as well as a paramedic. He was one of the best in his team, and every time there was a giant incident, He needed to go straight away.

-Okay, please come back as soon as you can.- I replied, secretly hoping he stayed away while I tried to fix my brain.

He walked up to me and kissed my head, and hugged me sorrowfully. Then began to speed walk to the train station. I didn’t follow him. I didn’t say anything either.

I called an uber back home, I didn’t feel like walking. As I walked through the front door I could hear talking in the living room. It ceased as I closed the front door. Shortly after, Sam walked out.

My heart struck, I remembered the realization I had about him today. I tried to speak but couldn’t. I just smiled at him and started making my way upstairs for bed. I could feel him standing there watching me walk up there alone. I had a feeling he would follow me. But he didn't.

Part of me was relieved about both of these men being absent from me. Time to think was what I needed. 

I pulled out an empty journal that my wellness friend had gotten me for my most recent birthday and a matching pen that came with it, then I sat on the balcony on the warm summer night and decided that I would just write my feelings. This is what I ended up writing;

About a week ago I think I fell in love with someone else. Disgustingly. Now I have so many feelings and nowhere to put it all. So I'm going to do this. My boyfriend isn’t a horrible person. I want people to think he’s not a horrible person. He’s beautiful and kind, he’s understanding in so many silent ways but he’s just not there. He can be so earth shattering but he’s just not there. That still doesn’t mean that I’m allowed to fall for another man though. I’m at fault here, I am the one that will ruin everything. Unless he does something unforgivable, unbelievable, something so horrible that it would be required for me to fall in love with someone else and you know what? I’m hoping that happens. I really am. Because I am stuck in this bond. I am stuck in this relationship and I thought London was my way out but it wasn’t. Mentally he is not mine anymore. He is NOT THERE! 

Sam entered my life before Jean ever did. I know it was a short encounter but now I know why I remembered that encounter so clearly. He is mine, I want him to be mine.

His hands are my favorite. The stories in them. The abilities they have and their creativity. What I would do to just have those hands all over me. All the time.

Then his face. He is my painting. I can see his brush strokes and his blending. I can see the blotches of unmixed paint is his pores and the white spirit gleaming in his eyes. I can smell his life on him, I don’t even need to know anything about him, I just know him. 

He thinks of me the same way.

Which is the hardest part. Feeling like this for a week has broken me, tortured me. I can’t imagine how he has felt like this for seven years with no hope. 

He can be my everything, and I’m afraid I just ruined it. So I have to let it go. I have to hope Jean never knows about it and we stay with each other so I can be unhappy forever. That's what I get. That's what I get for falli-

That's where the entry stops. I never finished it because I heard the balcony door slide open and I snapped the book closed. That’s how it would stay. Closed forever.

-We need to talk- Sam said.

-we do. - I replied. 

chapter 9.

[samcatcher]

Just wanted you to know I’m living for when in London!

Thank you!!! ❤️

there is so much more coming for you all x

[samcatcher]

I’m taking a little break from uploading chapters as my computer broke and I am starting an apprenticeship on Monday!

I definitely have not abandoned the fic, there’s still another 13 chapters that are written and just need to be checked over and tweaked.

I hope to bring WIL back to you before the end of this year (2024). Definitely before Christmas!

Thank you all for the support so far I am loving showing this story to you all!

Xx -P

[samcatcher]

When in London.

Chapter 7. Masterpost.

By the time I woke up after tossing and turning, it had already gone past 10. I assumed Jean never came, as I checked my phone to see no messages, or calls. I stayed still in the position I was in. Unmoving. I decided today was going to be another day where I bitterly settle in.

Defeated, I just closed my eyes. Then suddenly I felt a pair of arms pull me close and smell my hair, then kiss my head. The smell was familiar, like the smell of home, the smell of me. The hands were cold and something I was used to. I wasn't confused.

"You came." I whispered in French, relief in my voice.

I turned to his face, his familiar face. His big blue eyes and dark, clear skin looking back at me. A smile on his face. It was as if he never left me. Suddenly everything wasn't unfamiliar. Suddenly everything wasn't scary. Suddenly we were in it together again.

For the sake of my storytelling, I'll translate our conversation.

"I didn't think you would come." I said to him, furrowing my eyebrows and completely showing my known weakness to him. His expression changed.

-There's nothing I can excuse, I am sorry baby, sorry for the past few days.- He pressed his forehead against mine, and I slowly nodded. He closed his eyes and breathed into me again. I felt his stubble as he kissed my cheek over and over. The repetition made me giggle.

I just looked at him. That was all he needed. I brought my thoughts down to my eyes and my eyebrows and I changed my expression to how I felt. I widened my eyes and furrowed my eyebrows. I let out a sigh as I turned my head to the left. Then I curled my lips into a forgiving, warm smile. One he had seen before. Then, I reached my hand up to his face and kissed his lips. Moving my thoughts from my face to his. That's when he got everything I needed to say.

"I am happy to be in your arms, relieved." Jean expelled slowly and quietly, so I grasped the emotion and rawness. However, I already knew this by the way he cupped my chin and kissed me three times on the cheek earlier.

It was relieving for sure. A familiarity was in my arms after days of being in a place so unknown. He wasn't being forgiven that easily though. I wasn't the type of person to hold grudges or get upset often anymore, so the fact that he made me get stuck in a rut showed a lot about his true colors. Which I had never seen in the two years we were together. It was scary but something love made me forget. Seeing his face so close to mine and hearing his words made me forget. That's what it's like loving Jean. You just forget.

After a few seconds of embracing each other. Feeling eachother once again, I lifted my head and asked;

"Who let you in?"

"Amelia." He answered, confused.

"Who else would have let me in?" He asked following his answer, laughing.

From that I assumed that Danny and Sam weren't home. I felt a shred of relief, I didn't want Jean to be bombarded with two men as soon as he came here, I would rather have told him about them before he met them. I was planning on it. I was.

We stayed in bed for another hour and a half. brining us to 11:30. then came to the decision that we needed to get up and do something, he would only be here for the weekend, he was leaving late Sunday night.

We decided on going to a nice restaurant, then maybe taking a detour to a nice pub. I was very excited. Although my furniture was supposed to come today at 3 so we couldn't go out until later.

A couple of hours went by of us eating and talking. Jean and Amelia tried their best to communicate but it was kind of awkward with the language barrier. At around 2:30 Jean and I prepared to greet the van and haul in all of my stuff, we moved the suitcase into another room and I put my hair up and got changed. With a high five and a nod, we opened the door to the moving company.

"Lyla Darius?" The man at the door said, standing with a clipboard and a high-vis jacket.

I nodded and looked out to the van.

"We can 'elp ya bring it all in for twenty quid more, or we can leave the van 'ere for an 'our and come back when you're all done, love." He turned around to look in the van, a colleague stepped out and started walking towards us, although he was on the phone.

This man had a higher pitched voice, but still the same cockney accent. "Darlin' I looked in the van and there ain't that much stuff in there, so uh, I think we could bring it down to 15 quid, for a beautiful girl like you." The colleague said and looked me up and down.

"I think that would be really helpful, let me just check if I've got 15 pounds cash." My wallet was in my coat beside the door. Low and behold I had 30 pounds in there, so I gave them all of it.

"Cheers. Won't ask ya for a cuppa now." He chuckled and smiled big, revealing a gold tooth.

"START LOADIN' IT IN DARREN!" He shouted at his colleague, who shot a thumbs up and started pulling the first box out of the van.

"What should I do?" I said to him, and he just shook his head.

"Sit down and relax, that's what ya gonna do! We'll sort this out for ya sweet'art. Don't worry yaself." He nodded and started stumbling down to the van.

I did what he said and went upstairs, I decided to make the men a cup of tea anyway. My friend from London said you always have to, no matter what.

I was lost in thought, making the tea for the moving men, scared that I wasn't doing it quite right, I had never made tea for two cockney men before. I was pulled out of my concentration when I heard Sam coming through the front door, so I started making my way down there.

Sam was standing at the door, his hair in a bun and a pair of shorts on. He had a white band tee that was cut into a tank top, and a pair of thin, cheap flip flops.

"Do you need any help with this?" Sam asked, bluntly.

"No thanks, they're doing it all for me actually" I laughed.

He nodded and walked into the living room.

I went back upstairs to see Jean directing the men where to put things in my room. Seeing all of the boxes seemed to be making him emotional, so he looked at me with a half smile.

I went behind him and pulled him into an embrace, as my cheek rested against his back, he held my hands with his for a moment. He nodded finally, and I let go, moving myself out of the way as the movers were heaving my beautiful vintage dresser into my room.

-Just a couple more boxes now love, and thanks for the cuppa.- Jean must have finished off the tea I was making before I got distracted by Sam coming.

I watched with a smile as the moving men dropped off the last few of my boxes. I thanked them, and they left. Before I went upstairs I checked on Sam, he was fast asleep in the sofa bed he still hadn't put away since the first night. I laughed and shut the living room door, to not disturb his peace and to not reek havoc on Jean. Everything was going so nice.

My excitement continued to build as I walked into my room. I had waited so long for all of my beautiful things to come, and I couldn't wait to show Sam everything compared to the walls he painted for me.

The first thing I did was move some of the boxes into the kitchen momentarily, to focus on the larger appendages in my room. Jean helped heave the boxes around the kitchen while I stood and tried to figure out the perfect orientation.

I moved the double bed underneath the window with the view of the beautiful garden, it came out from the window and the end of my bed was dead center in the middle of the room. I had a small ottoman which I placed at the end of my bed.

I moved the dresser against the wall which held the balcony door, and placed a mirror on top of it. There was one empty wall west to my bedroom door, there I decided to hang my big beautiful painting I had bought in Michigan when I was sixteen. It was the bodice of a woman in a bathtub, facing away from the looker, she had her hair in a bun, she looked a little like Sam.

Finally, from the west wall to my bed there was about 3 feet of space. I put my bedside table there next to my bed and a bohemian style rug, creating a kind of viewing area for my painting.

I called in Jean for his opinion, and he suggested we move the ottoman underneath the painting so we can put candles there to light the painting in the dark. I loved his idea so I did it, and I placed all of the candles I had brought on the ottoman.

It didn't feel like my room until I opened the boxes containing my plants. Sam was right, they contrasted perfectly with the peachy shade of my walls. I scattered them all over the place.

I unpacked the final boxes of small decorations, lamps, and clothes, then I collapsed on my bed after about an hour of hard work. Jean walked in from smoking on the balcony and a toothy smile formed on his face. He looked around at everything and then finally looked at me. He just nodded, but it was his 'its perfect' nod.

I was still leaning on the bed, staring at everything. Jean walked fully into my room and closed the door behind him. We both smiled.

He immediately climbed onto my bed, kissing me softly yet for a long time, emotionally. He did anything but use his words. He moved his hand from my face down to my waist, down to the back of my thigh. Then he stopped kissing my lips and moved to my neck, licking and sucking a sweet spot on my collar bone he had identified months before. I arched slightly and a small whimper escaped me. He moved his hand now from my thigh to up my dress, giving me chills as his cold hand reached all of the sensitive parts of my body he knew so well.

His other hand was supporting his weight over me, yet suddenly it scooped under me and pulled me over, switching me to be on top of his large body. I arched my back as I moved my face to his, kissing his lips as he moved his hands over my ass softly, he then grasped one cheek hard, which made me whimper again. He tasted like smoke, he tasted like France.

He sat up while I was still on him, making us form a cradling position. He had both hands on my ass, but suddenly moved one up to the back of my neck, he slowly applied pressure and created a small choking sensation which he knew I loved. He continued kissing me, it went from tender to sloppy, he was getting impatient. He pulled down the top of my summer dress which revealed me, I had no bra which he smiled at, then he began licking and sucking on my nipples, just the way I liked. I was growing impatient too. So just as I was about to shift my weight to allow him to reveal himself, there was a knock on the door which made me stop in my tracks.

Jean was getting impatient so he just rolled his eyes and tried to resume where we were going, but the door opened, without any confirmation of entering.

My back was towards the door, but judging by the silence, and a very confused Jean, I know who had opened it. I quickly pulled up my sundress without looking back. After a few seconds of all three of us frozen completely, Sam just closed the door, swearing something under his breath.

Jean looked at me, confusion still plastered all over his face. Then there was me, desperately trying to play it cool. I climbed off of him and sat next to him in the bed, his eys still holding the same expression. I'll translate the converstation.

"Who the fucks that?" Jean simply questioned, I could see his tongue moving along his cheek.

"That's um, he..." Jean cut me off.

"And why is he coming into your room unannounced in nothing but his shorts and a guitar?" Jean added.

My stomach dropped. I couldn't find anything to say. I stammered over my words trying to find an excuse, a reason, a lie? It was too late though, Jean was already standing up and getting his cigarettes. He was going to go missing. He did that all the time when he wanted attention. He liked it when people went looking for him.

He left the room and a couple seconds later I heard the front door slam closed. I didn't know where he was going to go but I knew soon I'd have to call and text. Then eventually go out there in my sundress and slippers and look for him. He won't have gone far.

But for now I sat on the bed with my knees up, bummed. Then I heard a knock again.

"come in." I said. Monotone.

Sam came in cautiously.

"I'm so sorry Lyla, I should have waited for confirmation to come in. I promise I'll be more careful next time." Sam said, worry filled him. His eyes were filled with shock and he was playing with a strand of his hair.

"It's fine sam." I said with a laugh. "you didn't see anything too gory anyway."

"Who's that guy?" Sam said, still with caution in his voice. Slightly stuttering.

I just stared for a while. Something inside me didn't want Sam to know that Jean was my boyfriend. Something told me that it was going to go wrong.

"That's Jean." I said with a smile.

"He an old friend?" Sam asked, he was not making it easy for me.

I laughed awkwardly.

"He's my boyfriend."

As I said that Sam's eyes darted up at me, filled with shock. Then they traveled down to the floor, and his hand moved to his lip. I didn't ask if he was okay, I knew he wasn't.

"Oh, that's cool." Sam said, still staring at the floor.

"He's a cunt most of the time." I said, tilting my head to the side and playfully smiling.

Sam just laughed a little and got up, he shot me a small wave then made his way out of the room.

Jean didn't come back that night until 11pm. I called, no answer. I texted, no answer. I went out there, no answer. I was shocked by the absolute immaturity, so naturally, I ignored him all night.

At around 3 in the morning I heard the front door open. Jean was sound asleep beside me so I decided to climb out of bed and see who it was.

I crept down the corridor in Jean's shirt and my slippers. It was very dark but suddenly I heard the living room light switch. I crept down the stairs and entered the living room slowly. Before my eyes was Sam, stumbling onto the sofa bed. He looked very disoriented.

"Sam?" I whispered.

"Well... look who it is." He stammered and scoffed.

I walked further into the living room to see him struggling to find something to crash in, I went into his suitcase and found a pair of boxers and a shirt. He snatched it off of me. Denying my help even though he was completely incapacitated.

"Come on dude, why are you so drunk?" I asked. "Angry drunk." I added.

He looked at me with disgust.

"Lyla. The girl. The girl that I've been looking for since I was in my teenagers years. She's married with kids." He said slurring his words.

I laughed. "Must be a different Lyla. I don't have kids. And just between you and me... if Jean proposed I would say no." I whispered in a slight spat, trying to calm the situation and make a joke out of it.

"What do you find funnier Lyla? The fact that you never told me about him after letting me get in bed with you. Meet my brothers. Play you my songs. Or the fact that you're still fucking him when such a better man for you is standing right here? I'd be open to fucking you even if he was in the house. He looks like a jerk." He started walking towards me with his arms stretched out. Then stopped and plopped himself on the sofa. (Danny was on the bed tonight.)

"And I'd be glad if he caught us." He added. Making himself laugh and staring at the ceiling.

"Sam, I don't know why you're upset." I said, lying. I knew exactly why.

"What makes you think I'm upset?" He said, knowing he was upset.

"Who randomly gets drunk on their own if they're not upset about something. This drunk too" I rebutted. Sam didn't reply.

We stared at each other for a few moments, then Sam looked away and shook his head.

"From the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew I would never let you get away. But look, I'm too late. I don't even want to know how late I am." He stayed shaking his head as he vented.

"You are the most beautiful girl I have ever met Lyla. The face I would never forget. You have been in my dreams for 7 years and now you've just embarrassed me. Fuck you." He continued. I stood there dumbfounded.

"How have I embarrassed you? Was I supposed to live my life waiting for you? Like a knight in shining armor? Don't be pathetic Sam, it's your fault you want me so bad. Get over yourself. For your information because I know you definitely do want to know. It's two years. You're two years late."

As soon as the words escaped my mouth I felt bad. But I'm never going to allow someone to accuse me of something like embarrassing them, especially when they have only embarrassed themselves.

He stared at me for a few moments more, still shaking his head.

"I didn't want it to be like this Lyla. It wasn't supposed to go like this." Sam shouted, making Danny open his eyes.

"I didn't want it to be like this either." I said, staring at Danny's half asleep expression to avoid Sam's eyes.

"I didn't want it to be anything." I said, lying.

"So what's funnier Lyla?" Sam asked again.

I stormed back upstairs and got into bed. Both men were angry with me. I was normally a person that would stand up for themself, but I was just so tired.

Jean stirred beside me, I gave into his arms outstretched to grab me. I figured that Jean was my main priority right now. Sam was just some boy who liked me, me and Jean were serious.

chapter 8.

[samcatcher]

When in London.

Chapter 6. masterpost.

I awoke suddenly that same night and something dawned upon me to check my phone. It was 1:17 AM. After a few seconds of waking up, I discovered the urge I had was due to the constant vibrating, pinging and ringing from Jean. There was so many notifications everyone at home probably thought I had an alarm going off that I was sleeping through. It was just Jean obsessively ringing me over and over.

I turned towards the wall and tried to ignore the constant ringing, but I couldn’t. It had been ringing now for 20 minutes, and I know that everyone in the house could probably hear it, and even if I put it on just vibrate, the vibrating would be just as annoying.

I answered the phone, and just as I expected, there was shouting. I didn’t say a word, I just listened, analyzing what he had to say.

“Ces derniers jours, j'ai commencé à avoir l'impression de ne plus t'aimer du tout.” He stated. Monotone. It made my jaw drop in shock.

-These past few days, I've started to feel like I don't even love you at all.- is what he said.

I told him that he doesn’t mean that. I told him I hadn’t done anything but what I wanted to do, and I told him that if he can’t accept that, he should leave me. I opened up about the way he made me feel. Explaining that over the past few days, I have felt like he doesn’t know who I am. And he has surely been treating me like he didn't like me. After I had done absolutely nothing wrong. All I did to him was accidentally respond to a message in English. All I did was fall asleep without telling him. I knew there was other things I did which would cause him to be angry, but these things he did not know.

“Vous m'avez épuisé. Je ne suis loin de toi que depuis trois jours et je le préfère déjà. Je suis assez mature pour croire qu'on peut s'en sortir, donc je te demande, viens à Londres, je sais que tu as toujours un billet de train, et arrangé ça avec moi. Si tu ne veux pas faire ça, tu peux partir et ne plus jamais me parler.” I added.

He sighed as if I would never understand what he was trying to say. I had just told him that if he doesn’t come to London and try to speak with me, he could leave me and never speak to me again. Because it would be a perfect example of his immaturity, which I could deal with, but not on this level.

He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then put the phone down on me. I layed there, numb, drained. He had never ever been this horrible to me, in the whole two years we had known each other. He was always controlling and hated it when things didn’t go his way but he was never so verbally horrible and disrespectful towards me. All of my opinions of him being a respectful gentleman was thrown out of the window. I don’t know how he managed to hold back this intense hatred for so long. I couldn’t help but think something had changed at home. Something for him to be guilty about. However I shook the thought because it was extremely unlikely.

I tried to get myself back to sleep, but failed, as my head was now pounding, from the restlessness of my emotions. I decided to go and get a drink, but as I stepped out of my room I was startled to see Danny standing in the kitchen, drinking a beer and looking through the cupboards. He turned around quickly, equally startled, and watched me carefully with narrow, tired eyes.

I ignored him.

“Hey stranger.” He said as I walked past him to get something out of the fridge, but I didn't say anything back.

“what’s happened?” he added after he didn’t see me politely smile or laugh.

I did a half smile out of politeness after he added the comment, then I shook my head.

“It’s nothing Danny, I’m just tired and my social battery is low. Thanks for the concern though.” I said as I pulled a can of beer out of the fridge and opened it. I began to walk to my room, but Danny touched my shoulder, which made me turn around.

“It’s been a while Lola. I still know you though.” He softly spoke to me. Expressing his disbelief at my excuse.

It reminded me of when we were younger and I’d always be upset about something small. I would go to Danny often when I was upset, he was one of those people that you just couldn’t help but be vulnerable with. He wasn’t judgemental or anything, he just listened.

Hearing his soft voice and recalling the memories of being young, I broke down. Suddenly tears were flowing down my face uncontrollably. Danny’s soft expression or voice didn’t change, he just stepped towards me and pulled me in for a hug, rubbing my back and softly shushing as I cried. It reminded me of when we were kids so much, it felt almost exactly the same. Although this time he was larger and warmer, he felt more aged and meaningful. He had grown up.

I tried to speak but couldn’t. I didn’t even want to. I didn’t want everyone to hate Jean. None of this was his fault. He just wasn’t used to being away from me for so long, everything would be okay in the end and he didn’t deserve to be alone in France while everyone was making a fuss of me back here in London.

“missing home?” Danny whispered after a while. I just nodded. I suppose I did miss home in a way, I miss when Jean felt like home.

“Me too.” Danny added after a few moments.

Danny hugged me tighter for another few minutes, then I decided to pull away, as his embrace had re-entered all tiredness in my body by making me feel safe and relaxed.

-I’m so glad you’re here.- I said to him as I grabbed my drink and began to walk to my room.

-See you in the morning.- He whispered, making his way back downstairs. I watched him walk away from my doorway, walking past a figure on the stairs. It was Sam, obviously, he had seen the entire thing.

I creeped into my bedroom, pretending that I didn’t see Sam on the stairs. I didn’t hear him walk back down though, he stayed still. Not a creek nor a step. I couldn’t even hear the light sounds of his bare feet gripping to the kitchen floor. I slipped into my bed and while I was adjusting the rustling covers and placing my head on the pillow, my ears were preoccupied. So I didn’t realize Sam had snuck in behind me.

I closed my eyes with the same numbing thoughts of Jean. The same pounding in my head from the crying.

“Lyla. I’ve never seen home sickness this bad. Plus, I keep hearing you shouting and speaking on the phone in French. Who is it?” Sam spoke from the foot of my bed. It scared me. I completely jumped out of my skin but Sam didn’t react. He just stood there concerned with his arms crossed.

“It’s-“ I started.

Sam waited for my reply. I looked at him in the cast of the moonlight shining from my window. His hair messily draped on his shoulders. His pajama shorts slipping past his hips ever so slightly, revealing slight belly hair. His tan skin, shining in the light and his big brown eyes staring at me with concern. More concern that Jean had ever felt for me. It was as if Sam had held this concern for years. I knew he had it at that moment. I felt it all.

“It doesn’t matter.” I rolled over, signaling to Sam that I didn't want to talk.

He just silently left the room.

I wanted to sleep but couldn’t. Two men had tried to help me get to sleep and be peaceful tonight, whereas one man had created it all. Something in me just felt so sorry for Jean yet something in me was shocked that he would take it out on me.

Having to rely on other men to console me was something I also felt guilty about. If Jean was here and saw me crying into another man's arms he wouldn't be happy, and I hated hiding things from him. Sometimes I just had to though. To avoid an argument.

I checked my phone once more, because Jean had put the phone down on me before confirming that he was still coming to London tomorrow but there was nothing from him. I prepared myself for either heartbreak tomorrow, or a surprise visit at the door at around 8 am. He was an early bird.

I put my phone down on the side table and told myself that was the last time I would touch it for the night. I needed to get some sleep.

I looked at the clock after another session of staring at the ceiling. It was 3:27am. I was so fucking frustrated. I wished Sam was in my room playing me to sleep again. I know he would if I asked but I didn’t want to disturb him. Even though I kept hearing him and Danny speaking, they must have got a burst of energy and woke up. I also wished I was in Jean’s arms. I wished I could smell his scent. It’s almost as though I could?

chapter 7.

[samcatcher]

When in London.

Chapter 5. masterpost

This night was a night that I would always remember. It was an experience that I took with me everywhere. Sometimes when I’d see all of the boys together, I couldn’t help but think about this night. It was the night I (almost) heard a full greta van fleet set for the first time.

Sam and I spent the day together watching TV and talking. Just talking. It was so relieving to speak my native language so regularly again. I shared with him almost everything that’s going on and happened in my life. He seemed to remember every part. Him on the other hand, he remained kind of a closed book. Only really opening up to me if I asked a question. It did make me feel like I was talking about myself too much but every time I looked over at him he looked so content to be listening to me.

At around four, Sam left the house to go and set up with the boys, exactly like he did yesterday. He looked sad to be leaving me and he gave me a lingering hug as he left. I watched him wait for his cab with his bass in his hand, I watched him get in, I watched him drive away. After the remnants of Sam were gone, I started to get myself ready.

The moving van with all of my furniture still hadn’t come, it wasn’t coming until the weekend. Luckily, Amelia is an avid going out party girl, so I raided her closet for any sort of club dresses or outfits. Anything that wasn’t shirts or leggings. Amelia’s closet wasn’t my style, I missed my heaps of going out clothes and dresses and jewelry but it was fine for the time being.

I tried on this tight black dress which ended at mid thigh. It had white lace trim around the bottom and white straps. It looked like lingerie and to be honest I’m not fully convinced it wasn’t. I didn’t mind though. I’m not sure how Jean would have felt about it.

I felt confident after trying on the dress. Looking at myself in the mirror I felt the excitement for the rest of the night bubble up. So I quickly took off the dress, placed it on my bed and went and ran the shower.

I had a full packed shower. I washed my hair, I shaved my entire body, exfoliated my skin as well as everywhere else and I lotioned everywhere after. I brushed my teeth twice and as I was plucking my eyebrows the fourth time I looked at the clock, I had an hour for everything else.

I quickly cleaned up all of my stuff in the bathroom and moved to my room to start on my hair and makeup, which had to be simple now I wasted all of my time in the bathroom. 

After blow drying my hair and giving myself subtle sexy smokey eyes, I gave myself one last look in Amelia’s full length mirror in her bedroom. She was in there getting ready too, it seemed like she was going to make us a little late.

“Who are you looking good for?” She teased me as I checked my ass in the mirror.

“Just me.” I replied in the same tone and laughed at her suspicious expression.

I sat on Amelias bed and put on my white ankle socks and my black docs. Then I pulled out my phone and checked my messages. Nothing, good.

At around 6:30, Amelia and I began to make our way to the venue. The show started at 7 so we had half an hour to get a cab and go. Luckily we managed to find one almost straight away and we reached the venue at 7:05. The warm air felt like summer in France. Though London’s air felt more like home to me.

We got into the venue, which was this small pub-like place. There was a stage and a bar, that was about it. There were chairs and tables around the stage and you could see all four band members joking around and wasting time setting up on stage, while the owner stared them down angrily.

One of the twins was shouting about something and making only himself laugh. The other twin was vigorously trying to wipe something off of his fretboard. Sam was sitting alone on the edge of the stage. He was tuning his bass by ear. He looked so absorbed in the sound. His jaw jolted forwards and his lips pursed as he focused. Danny was the only one that noticed we’d arrived, he was approaching.

“So ladies, are you excited to hear Michigan’s best rock band?” He said smugly and nudged my shoulder.

I furrowed my brows.

“Sure am.” I said trying to hide my hopelessness for this band.

He laughed and turned around, then mouthed something to Sam, who looked at me and frowned mockingly. Something I don't think he expected was one of the twins catching a glimpse of what Danny had just mouthed.

“So, you’re not convinced?” A small curly headed elfish man was approaching. A cartoon smile which shocked me as he grew closer. Josh Kiszka.

He animatedly crossed his arms and I looked around nervously.

“It’s okay, I get it.” He pretended to tear up and then broke his act and immediately started chortling. 

“Fine. I am so super excited.” I said in a reassuring tone however I don’t think they were convinced.

Amelia next to me nudged me, because she had found us a table close to the front, Sam's side. We sat down and waited anxiously.

“They’re really good, you’ll be surprised.” Amelia whispered to me as we continued waiting. It was now 7:20.

Sam glimpsed at me and smiled, then turned around to watch his brothers cue him in. Josh started nodding his head and tapping his foot to Danny’s opening drum beat. 

All four boys joined in at once, and I paid attention to each of them, studying their movements and mannerisms as they focused on the beat and chords they created. 

Danny jolted his head and flipped his hair, moving his arms with so much power and speed, and pattern, every now and then he would gasp for air, yet he was always smiling. You could tell he loved what he did and wanted to do it for life. 

Jake kept his speed and focus on his fretboard, moving his fingers with gracefulness. He made it look so easy. Every now and then he would move his head up to look at his brothers, then he would move his focus back down to his gibson. Which was, and still is, beautiful. 

Josh would open his mouth wide and smiley, you could see his tongue vibrating in his mouth. He would close his eyes when he hit a vital part in the song, and move his arms up and down in time with his tapping foot. Between verses he would close his eyes and jolt his head. Warming up for the next spiral of notes he would hold. 

And finally… Sam. I wish I got a chance to look at him, but since the show had started my phone hadn’t stopped ringing. I ignored it for 3 minutes as I took in the first 3 boys, although when the first song ended I started to get worried, so I decided to sneak off to the ladies room to check my phone. 

It was obviously Jean. Constant text messages and phone calls asking where I am. Although I sighed, something in me sensed there was some sort of emergency, so I shot him a quick text.

Lyla: Is there something wrong?

I didn’t realize I had sent the text in English until he replied in French. Cursing me, saying I was being inconsiderate and that there was no point of us speaking at all if we weren’t speaking french, I apologized to him saying that I was just used to speaking English at the moment, and I got left on read.

Rolling my eyes I stepped out of the bathroom after standing in there for 20 minutes trying to get something out of my angry boyfriend. trying to hide my now spoiled mood, when I sat down I rubbed my face with my hands, and although Sam was in the middle offsetting up his keyboard, he still noticed my mood, and a worried look casted upon his face.

I was able to get a good look at him playing now, and once I started to stare I couldn’t look away.

With one section of hair tucked behind his ear, the other section remained down, framing his face. I could see the side of him as the piano was facing west, and I could see his bare feet striking the pedals and keeping in time with the song. His jaw was rotating, and his lips pursing. He would put his all into the piano, jolting his body forwards with each note he played, and he would close his eyes until he released the keys, opening them to find the other one to strike. He looked so serious and focused, yet penetrated by the music, he followed his brothers with his eyes, then subtly looked back down at the keys, he didn’t have one eye on the audience though, which was what I didn’t expect, his other brothers seem to be fueled and drawn by the audience, however Sam just focused on the music he created, and I also just assumed he had stage fright and couldn’t bare to look into the crowd of English Pub Goers. 

I was mesmerized, I couldn’t take my eyes off. Until I was snapped out of my trance by Amelia, who must have caught me drooling. She winked at me, took a sip of her drink and looked back onto the stage, her focus was on her brother, who had just done a big goofy smile her way, as it was Sam’s solo at the end of their song flower power, and he had a break to take a drink and interact with the crowd.

My gaze never left Sam, he was 60 seconds into his 90 second solo, and beads of sweat were rolling down his chest.

It looked like the rest of the room had lost interest, and I was happy. For some reason I felt slightly jealous that other people were seeing such intensity from him. And although friends filled the room, I felt like he was playing to me, for me, as stupid as it sounds. When his solo was finally finished he looked up, but not to the crowd. Then he simply walked off stage, as the show had finished. I was shocked, it went so quick. The boy only played 4 songs, as unfortunately the pub had to close unexpectedly due to some sort of infestation, I didn't want to know much more about it.

The manager let us stay behind to help them pack up their things, and once Sam had finished putting his stuff away (he finished first because the others kept getting distracted.) He came over to me and Amelia with a shy smile.

“How was I?” He asked us.

“I loved the solo right at the end.” I said to him, my eyes wide, slightly starstruck.

“That was actually written for Jake’s guitar but we changed it to my keys because Josh wanted me to get some spotlight at the end.” Sam laughed.

“I still think it sounds better when I play it.” Jake said as he walked past holding his guitar, being extra careful not to bump it on any chairs and tables as we went by.

Sam rolled his eyes then stared at the floor, I think he secretly agreed with Jake. 

A few seconds of silence went past which was interrupted by the ringing of my phone again. I scoffed and went straight outside, forgetting to excuse myself from Sam and Amelia, inflicting worry on the two.

The summer air was freezing tonight, and I shivered as I turned the corner of the pub, away from Sam’s brother’s and into an alleyway to answer my phone. 

Me and Jean had probably the largest argument we have ever had that night. I found myself screaming down the phone in French. I felt like I should have been holding a cigarette and wearing a fur coat. The funny part is I can’t even remember what the argument was about. I just know how devastated it left me. And after 15 minutes of screaming and crying down the phone, he hung up. Leaving me sobbing in an alleyway of an unknown pub.

I looked up to see Sam slowly inching towards me, holding my jacket I had left on the back of my chair.

“You left this.” He simply stated. However I could see everything he was thinking behind his eyes.

I sniffled and nodded, embarrassed that Sam had seen me cry so early into our friendship. He didn’t show any judgment, nor did he ask any questions, he just pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his back pocket and offered me one. I politely declined.

“French girl don't smoke?” He rhetorically asked, slightly shocked.

“I used to. Way too much.” I replied and laughed back more tears.

Sam stepped closer and wiped my eyes for me, then pulled me in for a tight hug.

“My brothers went back to their hotel, Danny and Amelia are waiting for you, they don’t know you’re upset though, if they did they would have rushed over I’m sure-” He said, looking back.

“Thank you Sammy. I don’t know why but I’m glad it was just you that found me.” I gave him a lighthearted smile.

We walked out of the alley and were met with Amelia and Danny, who were looking at something on Amelia’s phone. I assumed it was a recording Amelia had taken of the band.

“Shall we go?” Amelia said as she looked around at all of us, I smiled and nodded, and she smiled back. We all started walking back to the house. The group engaged in conversations about the show that night, but I just stayed quiet, blaming it on something to do with tiredness.

When we got to the house I said a brief goodnight and went straight up to my room, I took off my clothes and exchanged them for comfortable pajamas. I didn’t even bother taking my makeup off, I was mentally drained mostly from Jean and I had only been here a few days. I passed it off as a rough patch while we adjusted. But it was more of a scolding, burning patch. Which left me depressed and unexcited about his visit soon.

The next morning I had no reason nor intention of getting out of my bed. Jean wasn’t coming until Saturday and the moving van had been delayed once again. So I layed there drifting off and waking up all day. I didn’t have an appetite nor energy to move. Everyone just assumed that I was having a lay in. 

At around 12:45 Amelia knocked on my door asking me if I wanted something to eat, because she had noticed I hadn’t left my room all day. I politely declined and told her I wasn’t too hungry. She nodded and left. Although we have been friends for life, we’ve never been good at comforting each other. I liked being left alone and she liked being held.

Another few hours went by and another few tears. Crying about a man was something I barely let myself do but Jean had really hurt me this time. I rolled over onto my stomach and put my head in the pillow, I decided to just cry it all out. 

20 seconds of silent sobbing later I removed my head from my pillow and grabbed a box of tissues from the suitcase on the floor next to my bed. I blew my nose and wiped my eyes. As I was doing so there was another knock on my door. I didn’t say come in, but it opened a few seconds later anyway. 

Sam came in smiling with a cup of coffee in his hands. Although his smile dropped once he saw the state I was in. 

“What’s wrong Lyla? Everyone thinks you’re hungover.” He said, concerningly. 

“I would rather them think that.” I said and choked back a few more tears. 

Sam tilted his head to the side and then left the room not saying a word. I was a little bit disappointed. I really wanted him near me for some reason. 

Although my disappointment turned into wonder once he came back holding a beautiful acoustic guitar, with flowers painted up the fretboard. It looked new and never used. Which is something that’s rare with the aesthetic of Greta Van fleet. Something told me it was his personal one. 

“One rule that I’ve had since I was sixteen is take an acoustic wherever you go. You never know when you might need it.” He said proudly. Then he asked, 

“Can I play something for you?”

I smiled, imagining him lugging guitar everywhere, even if he didn’t use it at all. I nodded my head and moved my legs so that he could sit at the end of my bed. With the guitar in his hands and his hair up in a messy bun he smiled at me, then he handed me his cup of coffee to hold. I took a secret sip. 

A few seconds went by of him staring at the floor, probably trying to channel the chords to what he was going to play. 

I laid my head back down on my bed but angled my head so that I could still see him. He tilted his head to meet my eyes and smiled, then looked back at the guitar and started to play. 

He was playing the song I was mesmerized by the previous night, flower power. He told me that his solo at the end was originally written for acoustic, so I’m guessing that is what he was warming up to show me. I’m assuming he played the whole song to show off a bit. 

Unfortunately I never got to hear the solo, because about a minute and a half into the song I started drifting to sleep. The playing was slow and relaxing. Like a lullaby version. I couldn’t help my eyes from closing and my breathing deepening. 

Just as I was about to fall asleep, Sam's playing stopped. There were a few seconds of silence, as he was probably trying to check I was sleeping. Then I felt a hand caress my face and hold my chin with a thumb. I felt a hand move a piece of hair away from my face and stroke down my arm. Lingering there for a moment. I fake stirred to try not to smile. And he let go of me. He moved to the blanket further up my arms and stayed staring at me. 

after a few moments of feeling his stare on my ”sleeping” body. He got up off my bed and left the room quietly. That’s when I finally let myself fall asleep. For the first time without crying that day. 

chapter 6

[samcatcher]

When in London.

chapter 4. masterpost

“Do you have any siblings?” Sam asked me as we walked out of the house and onto the quiet street.

“Yeah, just one. I have an older brother called Michael. He lives in central Paris.” I replied.

“That’s cool. Your house must have been quiet growing up. I have 3 siblings who are all musically inclined. You probably remember.” Sam added and laughed a little.

“I remember your brother who used to work at the market, that’s all. I thought he was your only sibling. I thought it weird how some days he would be kinda quiet and some days he would be loud. It was like he was two different people.” I said.

Sam started laughing.

“He was two people. My brother jake. They’re identical twins.” He said through laughter.

“What? No way. So is the twin in the band? Is that the brothers you were referring to sharing a hotel room with?” I asked fast, shocked.

“Yes. Now I hope you see why I wanted to avoid that at all costs.” Sam smirked.

“I do see that now. Who’s the other sibling then?” I laughed and then phrased my question.

“My older sister Ronnie. She’s cool but she’s not too interested in the band.” Sam stated.

“So you’re the baby?” I asked, trying not to tease because I knew I was too.

“Just like you.” Sam added in the same tone.

A bus later, we ended up at the nearest hardware store. Sam pushed the cart and I followed him to the wall of paint samples and build your own buckets.

He seemed uninterested at first but once I stared at him despairing, his poker face dropped and he turned into his passionate decorator mode. Immediately scanning the wall and picking out samples I can narrow down to one color.

He eventually held about ten samples of different colors. All giving off a different vibe from each other. My eyes were set on this beautiful orangey peach color. 

“See the greens are good if you want some sort of nature themed room. Living in London probably isn’t as naturistic as Michigan so you might wanna get back to home. Although these pink colors work really well with plants. So either way I guess you're turning your room into somewhat of a forest. If that’s what you were going for anyway.” Sam explained passionately. I made sure I took in every word.

“I do have a lot of plants.” I said smiling, I picked up the peachy sample from his hand and looked at it one more time.

“What do you think?” I added.

“I think it’s absolutely perfect.” Sam answered.

Somewhat impulsively, I decided to get two cans of the peachy color my eyes were set on from the get go. I found it immensely summery and perfect compared to the dark green leaves on all of my house plants.

We got various paintbrushes and rollers too. I also got a small can of plain white because all of my furniture was that color and Sam told me he had a trick to patch up white furniture that's been stained or chipped. 

We called a cab back to the house, Sam insisted on paying for it, I let him. 

We struggled to take everything up the stairs, Danny and Amelia weren't there so we just assumed they had gone to do something in London together as a family.

Sam helped me put a giant tarp down onto the hardwood floor, we taped it extra carefully to the floor and baseboard, so that we were sure not to get any paint on the ground. We put tape on the top of the white baseboard also, and over the plugs and light switches. Taking extra precautions.

Once everything was protected, Sam brought in all of the supplies and opened the first can of paint. We stared in awe at the beautiful orangey pink color. And I imagined how it would look on my currently white walls. I was filled with excitement, a massive smile crept on both of our faces.

I lent Sam an oversized white t-shirt. He didn’t have any spear shorts but he didn’t mind. He said he had better pairs at home anyway. He went to the bathroom to change.

Suddenly my phone started to ring, obviously it was Jean.

I was quick and blunt with the conversation, I didn't feel bad because I had the excuse that I was about to paint, I didn't tell him that I was painting with Sam though because it would just cause problems. Jean has always been jealous, so I knew that if I was talking to another guy while he was in an entirely different country, it wouldn't sit well with him.

After a quick 'I love you bye' I put the phone down and put it on to not disturb it. I didn't need any more distractions from him.

Sam came in about 3 minutes later. His hair was pulled into a tight messy bun, the shirt I lent him was oversized on him just as much as me, you could barely see the shorts. He noticed this and tucked one corner of the shirt into his shorts to make it look less large.

“let's get to work then, are you sure about this?” he asked and raised an eyebrow. 

Then he smiled suddenly as I nodded. He started on the wall with the window on it. Carefully dragging his paintbrush along the seam of the window, so that it didn't graze the windowsills and window frame. Watching him do it was mesmerizing, he was so precise with his hands.

I chose the wall which held my own door to the balcony, I did what Sam did and carefully made my way along the edge of the doorframe. About five minutes of painting went on, and suddenly Sam stopped, looked at me and shook his head. Then he walked out of my room.

Then 2 minutes later he walked in with a Bluetooth speaker he must have brought with him.

“There's no way we can paint without music, Lyla.”

It tingled in my lips as he said my name.

I laughed and let him choose what to play, he didn't even ask for my opinion on what he should put on, he said he wanted to play something he knew I would like.

Joni Mitchell's Blue.

I loved that album, I pretended that I just liked it, he seemed like the 'I told you so' type so I didn't want him to get too cocky on his assumption.

The songs played and we sang along while we covered my walls in the peachy shade. The more the walls were covered the brighter and more me the room felt. Sam's wall was halfway done after the album finished, and mine was about a quarter.

As soon as it finished he went back over to his phone, and without 10 seconds to spare he hit play on Don McLean's American Pie, god Sam had taste.

Halfway through the first and iconic song on the album he stopped painting and started to sing and approach me. Then he took my hand in his and spun me around, we shitty danced for about a minute. Finally, I giggled and said;

“Come on, we have to finish painting! You have a show soon.”

He grunted and looked up at the ceiling.

“As soon as that show is over, I'm coming right back up here. We're finishing this tonight!”

I laughed and shot him a 'sure we will' look. Then he smirked and went back to painting his section of the wall.

About 2 hours had gone by, Sam's wall was completely finished and he had approached the wall next to it, the wall in which my bed would be against.  My wall was just about finished too, so I moved onto the wall that housed my bedroom door.

After American Pie he chose the classic Hunky Dory by David Bowie. This one was one of my all time favorites. Especially when I had just got to France, I listened on repeat. I vocalized how much I loved this album, and he smiled so genuinely, then wiggled his eyebrows.

“You seem the type.” He said as he focused on his wall.

I smiled.

This time I initiated the dancing, and he didn't resist, he grabbed my hands immediately and spun us around, while we sang to the chorus of 'Oh! You pretty things.' And in a fit of laughter, I collapsed against the wall behind me, which was covered in wet paint.

“Oh shit!” I said, trying to get a good look at my back, Sam laughing next to me.

“It looks quite cool actually, I don't think you should keep wearing that though, you might spread that peachy infection around the house.” He laughed.

I groaned and looked through my suitcase that I had moved into the kitchen. I found a shirt that I had taken from Jean's closet and put it on, leaving the messed up shirt in a carrier bag next to my suitcase.

I walked back into my room to find Sam still painting, and I felt bad because he needed to be at the pub in half an hour.

“Hey Sam…” I leaned against the doorframe, he turned around quickly

“Didn't you say you needed to be at the pub by 4?”

Immediately he checked his watch and saw it was 3:31, then he began to frown. He took a step back and took in what we had done already, then he said

“I'll be back... tonight. Don't you dare go to sleep before I come back.”

I laughed and shook my head, then he grazed my arm lightly and looked at me to tell me he genuinely meant it. Then he trailed out of my room and I heard him go downstairs.

I decided to paint for about 20 minutes longer, but without Sam in the room with me it was just boring. There was only a quarter left to do. 2 walls were completed and the other two walls were halfway done. So I decided I'd do what Sam said and not paint anymore until he's back from his show.

I made sure the paint in the paint tray was used, and then I cleaned the paintbrushes and rollers in the bathtub with paint thinner, making sure that it didn't dry on the brushes and deem them unusable.

Sam left at 3:45, stressing he wouldn't get there in time. He had been gone for about an hour so I assumed everything was fine. I didn't get his number or anything so there wasn't a way for me to ask right now.

I decided to order myself some food, as a celebration for the day and for the work Sam and I had gotten done. I got him a carbonara but I didn't know if he'd want it, so I put it in the fridge for anyone to eat. Amelia didn't come back, so I assumed she went to watch her brother play.

I was hoping Sam would invite me to come and watch, but I think he was hoping I'd ask, so the subject just got dropped.

I spoke to Jean for a while and changed into some pajamas. I went down into the living room because my room smelled strongly of paint.

At around 10:30 I started getting tired, but Sam's words were circling in my mind. I watched a few movies I had loved since I was a teenager, the sofa was still in its bed form, so I decided to get cozy in there. Since Sam and Danny were gonna come home late and probably wouldn't want to have to set up the sofa bed.

It was funny, we only had one sofa bed but two sofas, so Amelia and I heard Danny and Sam arguing about who gets the bed and who gets the sofa. Eventually, Sam told me, they settled on taking turns, and it was Sam's turn for the bed tonight.

I felt myself drifting off but tried my best to stay awake so I could finish painting my room with him, but I just couldn't fight the sleep that was bubbling up inside. Eventually I gave in. Not realizing where I was falling asleep.

-

I woke up to the blinding sun. I was confused about where I was, all I could smell was the aroma of deodorant and paint, and I could feel a warmth against my back.

I sat up and looked down at a sleeping Sam next to me. Facing away from me, but he was taking up almost all of the bed. Paint was on his hands and arms, and a small bit on his face. He was completely out of it. The gig must have made him so tired. Danny wasn't there on the other sofa, the only people in the room were me and Sam.

Suddenly, the tiredness in my mind changed to everlasting guilt.

I reached to find my phone but it wasn't anywhere near me. I needed to see if Jean had texted me, and I needed to act normal. He doesn't know I just shared a bed with a man I met 2 nights ago.

I realized it was upstairs in my unfinished room still, so I gently crawled out of bed. I didn't need to be gentle though, Sam was so out of it.

I walked up the stairs and into my room. Which wasn't unfinished at all.

The tape was removed, the tarp was gone, and every wall was painted. It wasn't patchy or rushed, it was perfect, it looked like a second or possibly third coat had been applied to the walls as well. Sam wasn't lying when he said that it needed to be done tonight.

I snapped out of the trance that the walls had put me into, and grabbed my phone from the middle of the room. I quickly unlocked it and rang Jean straight away.

I made my way to the balcony, because my room still smells like paint, and the walls were still wet. It was 11 am though, so I wondered why the paint was so fresh smelling.

Jean and I spoke for a while about how we slept. We planned what we were going to do when he got to London. After about 15 minutes we ran out of things to talk about, so I put the phone down and just appreciated the morning breeze.

About 5 minutes of staring into the sky, Amelia texted me

“Hey Lyla, I completely forgot to tell you, Danny and I are at our cousin's, we went there straight after the gig, we should be home by dinner time!”

That explains why the house was so empty.

I pondered for what felt like hours about sharing the bed with Sam. I knew I shouldn't be guilty because I didn't feel him getting in the bed with me, and I didn't intend for him to. But I realized it was kind of my fault for falling asleep in the place that I knew he would end up sleeping in. He literally told me it was his turn on the sofa bed that night.

I then wondered, why did he? He could have woken me up?

Then it hit me. He could have slept on the other sofa. He chose to get in that bed with me.

I put my hands over my face and then ran my fingers through my hair. Wondering why he would do this.

About 30 seconds after my realization that there was absolutely no reason for him to have gotten into bed with me willingly, my thoughts were interrupted by my stomach.

I walked into the kitchen and decided to make a full English fry up for me and Sam. Especially for Sam, to say thank you to him for finishing my room while I was sound asleep. In his bed.

I guess the smell woke him up. Because when I was just about to plate up the breakfasts, I saw him sheepishly walking up the stairs, rubbing his eyes and yawning, he went into the bathroom without acknowledging me, then came out 5 minutes later, face washed, hair up, but still in paint stained pajamas.

He came up behind me and looked at the breakfasts on the plate. Mouth wide open.

“Oh my god, what is this?” He was shocked, someone had never seen a fry up before.

“It's about the only thing I can cook.- I laughed -Here, the plates, we can eat it on the balcony it's warm out there.”

We both walked out to the balcony, Sam holding the plates and me holding two glasses of orange juice. Then Sam went back inside and came out with a chair from the kitchen.

We both sleepily ate our food in our pajamas. Sam kept closing his eyes and shaking his head to tell me it was good.

I decided not to bring up the bed thing. He was probably just tired and would rather have slept on a bed than on a couch, and he probably didn't even notice I was there. I was under the covers to the far left, and he was on the right.

We both finished at almost exactly the same time.

“Thank you by the way, I didn't expect you to finish my room without me there, it was shocking going up there this morning and seeing it so perfect.” I laughed and tilted my head to smile. Like I was posing for a photo.

Sam blushed slightly and shook his head. “It was nothing really... I wanted it to be finished for you when your furniture comes.”

I nodded and put my legs up on the small table in front of me, Sam did the same, our feet were touching slightly.

“Do you wanna come to the pub we're playing at tonight?” Sam said after some moments. He looked at me nervously.

“Yes of course I would.” I said affirmatively, smirking at him.

We sat in a comfortable silence for 20 minutes after that. I was happy that he had invited me. I would never have invited myself.

Then he excused himself to go and get dressed.

Eventually he came back out onto the balcony wearing a thin white sweatshirt and a pair of black cotton shorts. And we started the day staring at the sky together.

chapter 5

[samcatcher]

When in London.

chapter 3. masterpost

cw: drinking.

Still feeling slightly tired and sleepy, I decided to get out of bed to greet Danny and his friend instead of leaving it until the morning because it seemed to be more respectful.

I slipped out of my plain bed and walked across my empty room. I pulled on a hoodie that I wear when I’m at home but I still had my pyjama shorts and slippers. Then, I made my way downstairs to greet Danny and his friend.

Tall, lanky, auburn, brown eyes. It was the boy, now man, who shared the moon with me 7 years ago. 

Amelia’s party was definitely an event that played on my mind, purely because the after effects were brutal and led to me losing my best friend. However, because it led to Amelia leaving to go to boarding school and me leaving without being allowed to say goodbye, I only focused on that part as opposed to the moment Sam and I shared.

Seeing him standing there though, it brought everything back. From that moment on, I associated Amelia’s party with Sam only.

Sam didn’t seem to remember me, so I didn't mention anything. However the look we shared when I walked down the stairs proved that both of us didn’t forget. I blanked him for the moment and directed my focus to Danny, whom I hadn’t seen in a  brutally long time.

He was a little taller and a lot more muscular. His look had become more unique. He had blonde streaks in his hair and he didn't dry brush his hair anymore. He was still very dreamy although not my type.

I went over and hugged him so tight. His large arms embraced all of me, which was strange because Danny used to be my size.

Sam did a small smile when I looked over at him and he reached his hand out for me to shake. The same hands which I analyzed so long ago. This time, the calluses were deeper and took over more of the surface of his hand.

We shook hands for a few second and as I was about to open my mouth, he said

“I’m Sam.”

I knew.

“I’m Lyla.”

He knew.

A few seconds of silence prolonged as me and Sam stared at each other. I felt him remembering me. I felt him recalling the time we shared. He pulled his eyes down and stopped smiling for a moment then looked back up and smiled at me again. However this time his eyes avoided mine. As if he has remembered something sour.

“Hey Amelia, where’s the bathroom?” Sam asked as I made my way back upstairs.

Meaning there was an awkward set of footsteps following me to my room.

As I walked into my room I saw my phone was lit up. It was ringing. It stopped as I walked over revealing I had received 20 missed calls within the span of 10 minutes.

It started ringing again in my hands and I answered.

“Qu’elle.” I snapped at him. I wasn’t a fan of the newfound spam calling.

Jean was shockingly being kind to me for the first time in hours. He asked if he could see me some time in the next few days. I thought it was too soon for him to want to come but I accepted because I knew I’d miss him by the weekend.

“Je t’aime Jean. Bonne nuit.” I said to Jean on the phone, as I did I saw Sam walk past and glance into my room with a confused expression. He saw I was looking back at him and his head snapped back in front of him, looking down slightly.

After Sam walked away, Amelia walked towards my door and placed a soft knock even though it was open. I moved my eyes to her.

“Do you want to join us downstairs? Danny brought some drinks.” She asked me cautiously, she remembered that I liked to go to bed quite early.

“Yeah I’d love to.” I replied, unexpectedly to myself. I think my brain just wanted to converse with Sam again. Especially after all of these years.

I got up from my bed and followed Amelia downstairs. I hadn’t been in the living room yet, it was definitely the best decorated room in the house. Amelia was proud of the living room. There were two sofas and a large coffee table between them. A large TV stood above a vintage fireplace and a lamp lit up the entire room dimly.

Danny was unloading a case of beer on the coffee table and Sam left the room to answer a phone call. I sat down on the smaller sofa and opened a beer. Danny sat on the larger sofa next to Amelia, the Sam returned and sat next to me.

Danny and Amelia began to catch up in their own conversation, talking about family and things Sam and I weren’t well versed in. Therefore there was silence between us. I decided to break the ice.

“So what do you do in the band?” I asked, looking at his hands which were slightly red from the coldness of the beer. 

“I play bass and keys.” Sam stated, he still was struggling to make eye contact with me. I just nodded fondly.

“I used to hear you guys play in Amelia’s basement I think. We were never allowed down there while you were practicing. You were in the band back then right?” I asked him, suddenly feeling anxious that it wasn’t him I would hear playing.

“Yeah that was me. My brothers worked me pretty hard. When I was in that basement I wasn’t allowed to leave. Same goes for our garage back home.” He laughed nervously.

Another silence followed and Sam sighed. This was the second time he actually met eyes with me since I pretended not to remember him.

“Lyla, I don’t know if this will be awkward to say but I don't want to keep it in anymore. Since Amelia’s party, I have been looking for you.”

I didn’t know what to say, although I was glad it was acknowledged that the party happened.

“You do- you do remember right?” He said with a small voice.

“I do.” I replied just as small.

I decided not to comment on what he said. About how he has been looking for me. I switched the conversation after a few seconds of silence.

“So, you on the couch?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“Yeah. We’re staying for the week. Depending on the venues that still need to get back to us though, it could be two. I’m grateful for you and Amelia for letting us stay. We couldn’t afford four hotel rooms and I didn’t really want to be limited to one room with my twin brothers and Danny.” He laughed nervously again.

I couldn’t help but notice a cute quirk in the way he spoke. After a sentence he would do a small smirk and kind of a head nod. Or run his fingers through his hair. It was like an anxious habit, routine. He did it every time he spoke or looked at me.

I realized I hadn’t replied because I was too focused on admiring how similar he still looked.

I ended up laughing and nodding my head. 

“So how old are you now?” I asked. Watching him run his fingers through his hair once again.

“I’m turning 22 next month” He said and raised his eyebrows.

“Oh me too!” I replied. “What day?” I added.

“The 3rd.” He added and nodded.

“We have the same birthday!” I said with a shocked expression on my face. Sam followed and adapted my expression, Then he laughed.

“That’s so cool actually.” He said and then looked down.

Hesitantly, he asked “what time were you born?”

“8:00pm on the dot.” I replied.

His expression deepened and he began shaking his head.

“Is this a bit?” He asked me.

“No. Don’t tell me…” I said

“We were born at exactly the same time.” He simply stated.

Sam and I had no age difference. Merely seconds apart from each other.

We shared the news with Amelia and Danny, who already knew. 

We talked about what our favorite birthdays were, he said his 13th was a good one. I said I hated my 13th. The conversation went on for what felt like hours. But I felt myself getting tired. 

“I’m gonna go to bed guys.” I said after a while. I was met with a few goodnights. Sam said “sweet dreams.”

That night it was hard to fall asleep. Sam was on my mind unwillingly. Specifically about how we were literally exactly the same age and how if we had stayed in contact after that night, we would have celebrated every birthday from 16 with each other in mind.

The next morning, I awoke to the sweet smell of crepes. It reminded me of my great grandma and my family. I rolled out of bed and brushed my hair then braided it without looking. I put on a pair of old leggings and a plain white shirt. Today's plan was to paint my bedroom before all of my furniture arrived. 

As I was putting on a pair of white socks, there was a knock on my door.

“Come in” I said horsley, my voice was still sleeping.

Sam came in and brought me a cup of coffee.

“Amelia told me how you like it.” He said as he placed it next to me on the ground. There was nowhere else to put it.

“Thank you Sam, that's too sweet.” I said, taking a sip.

“Oh, too much sugar?” He asked.

“No, you are sweet. The sugar is just enough.” I replied.

Sam laughed and left the room. Closing my door. Although the smell led me out a few seconds later.

Curiously I walked out of my room, which led me to the kitchen, and I saw Sam and Danny cooking and laughing, the kitchen was extremely messy. Cracked eggs everywhere, spilled sugar and milk, strawberry stems, and two empty mugs of what I assume was coffee. 

I laughed at the mess, which caused them both to turn around and laugh at me as well. Then Sam started to slightly clean up out of embarrassment.

I opened the door to the balcony and stepped out into the warm summer morning of London. I sat on a small chair that was out there and opened my phone. I had a couple of texts from Jean, as he had woken up before me. 

I decided not to reply, but to just call him instead. 

We chatted on the phone for a while, I told him about my plans to paint my room and he told me about how he was getting called into work that day.

Although all I cared about at that moment was why Sam was staring at me from inside. 

Jean caught on and asked me why I was distracted, annoyance in my voice I told him I wasn't. Eventually he and I ran out of things to talk about. So I told him I loved him and that I had to go. 

I put my phone down next to me and continued looking at the clouds, suddenly I heard the patio door slide open, barefoot Sam came out to join me. There wasn't a chair for him, so he sat on the floor and leaned against the door, which he had closed as he was coming out. 

“French?” He asked. 

I nodded and continued to look at the clouds. I noticed he was still staring at me so I looked at him and smiled. 

“Yeah, I lived there for seven years.” I replied and smiled.

“So that’s where you went.” Sam said slowly lost in thought and staring up at the sky.

I was finding it so hard not to stare at his body. He was wearing a pair of baggy sweats and no shirt. His hair was up in a messy bun. He still had sleep in his eyes, he probably only woke up like 20 minutes before me. 

We sat alone on the balcony for a while, looking at the clouds. 

Fuck it. 

“Do you wanna help me do something today?” I asked him. I knew I couldn't paint my room alone. 

And I also knew that Amelia and Danny would want to do something together, they hadn't seen each other in ages apparently. And asking Sam to help me with my room would allow them to be able to go out somewhere without feeling guilty. 

“Yeah sure, I'm free until 4. That's when I've got to go to the pub and meet my brothers, for practice and setting up for the show at 7.”

I nodded and started,

“I need to paint my room today, and I need someone to help me pick out the colors and actually paint, are you down for it?” I nervously touched my hair. 

Sam looked at Danny from inside, then he shrugged and nodded. 

“Yeah sure, I don't see a problem with that, let me just go and get ready, because it seems you're ready to leave.”  He laughed, then made his way back inside, I read his lips and he told Danny, and Danny raised his eyebrows and smiled. Probably relieved that he could go out with his sister today. 

I smiled to myself on the balcony, I was happy that Sam agreed, even though I hadn't known him for long. 

A few minutes later he walked back onto the balcony, wearing a summery outfit, a half buttoned white shirt with a black shirt underneath. And a pair of blue denim shorts. No shoes yet. I was scared he was never going to put any on, but he was holding a fresh cup of coffee. 

We sat for another 5 minutes just talking about random things, then he took the last sip from his coffee cup and we both got up to leave.

chapter 4

[samcatcher]

When in London.

Chapter 2. masterpost

Avignon, France. Seven years after the party.

My room was empty. Our room was empty. All that remained was a mark on the wall from the painting I had hung up for 5 years. I was filled with dread, thick dread. What kept me going was pure imagination. Nothing but a dream of what could happen once I got to London.

I had lived in Avignon for seven years now. I had a good job, friends, a boyfriend, and I was almost completely fluent in French. I settled enough, I got used to it but I never actually wanted to be there. Since I first stepped foot in this once foreign place, I was counting down the days until I could finally move to my dream home. London.

I was twenty one and scared like a child. I had never had to face such independence. That makes me sound like I have been wrapped in bubble wrap all my life. I suppose it’s kind of the truth though. I’m the youngest of just two, with supportive parents and a protective boyfriend. My older brother Michael isn’t too involved anymore but I still feel his protection from central Paris. Where he moved to pursue his love of film. Even if he just worked at a local movie theater.

We moved here to care for my great grandmother who was reaching the end of her life. For 5 years we lived for her, helped her with everything together. When she passed at 98, we accepted our broken hearts and continued to live on for her. She was lucky to live as long as she did, her stories of Paris and Avignon from tens of years ago would fill my days. Yet I was left thinking “when will I leave here?” everytime.

We stayed in France after she passed, not only to honor her love for the country but also because we were settled and more than comfortable. My mother and father completely adored the country. They both had really good jobs and bought a beautiful 4 bedroom house by the coast. Michael was content, he wasn’t the richest but he didn’t need much. Every couple of months I’d get driven to Paris and watch a classic with him in the theater where he worked. That was the only time we’d really bond. Michael wasn’t well versed in phones.

I stood there in the empty room and I couldn’t help but well up. My family would be so far from me, who would I go to? I reassured myself of the distance and puffed my cheeks to fill myself with enough breath. As I released the air and held my stomach slightly, Jean walked in with a coffee for me and a reassuring look.

That's all though. He put my coffee on the windowsill and then walked out. Leaving me to load most of the boxes into the van as he stayed in the kitchen preparing himself the last meal he’d eat in our apartment.

Jean was one of the first people I met when I moved here. He was a friend of Michael’s, they were the same age. Michael took it hard when he started dating me. I think it was because of the protection he felt he had to have on me. Eventually, after he moved to Paris, the snide comments about our relationship stopped and he seemed to accept us as a couple.

Jean was going to move in with Michael. Which is why I was left to load my own boxes into the van. Jean’s van had already left with his stuff.

When Jean and I first became friends, because of the language barrier, we spoke without words a lot. We eventually got used to this and looks, sounds, and actions became our way of speaking after 2 years together. Obviously we would speak to each other with words, we were not cavemen, but I learned to understand his mannerisms and sounds more than his words. Therefore, going long distance would be a struggle if we were condensed to text messages and phone calls.

I was about to leave this place forever, Jean was standing by the door smiling at me. I smiled back and chose a specific way to do it, so he knew what I was thinking. He immediately pulled me into his embrace and stroked my hair.

“You’ll be okay without me.” He whispered in French.

Jean was quite short for a man, although not shorter than me. He was mixed Jamaican and white French. The most prominent thing about him was his large brown eyes. Like a puppy. They were cute and forgiving. When I’d look into his eyes after an argument, it was hard not to forgive him straight away. He was broad and he had muscle, he was a firefighter.

I wanted Jean to come to London with me but he refused. He said he had too much life here. After a series of arguments and almost a breakup, I came to the conclusion that if I wanted to do this, I’d have to do it alone.

I said goodbye to Jean, not briefly. It was long winded and hard, there were tears shed and hands kissed. He drove me to the station and I boarded the train to London. 

I was wearing a dark purple sundress with black platform sandals. It was mid July and there was a nostalgic heat in the air. My hair was in a low rise bun and I carried with me a small suitcase and a patterned bag holding my essentials while I waited for the movers to transport my furniture overseas.

I had got back in contact with Amelia about a year before I moved to London. I learned that a while after I moved to France, her family moved to England, specifically to send her and her brother Danny to a boarding school.

Amelia stayed in London because it was 'what she always wanted.' It made me think, all kids from small towns long for the city.

She had lived with her parents for long enough and wanted to get her own place, but she couldn't afford it. So she asked me to be her roommate, and I said yes straight away. Not only because I missed her, but also because this would be me living my dream of inhabiting London. I was so excited to see her. The last time I saw her we were barely adults. 

-

The train slowly came to a stop at its destination. And I stepped out into a slightly chilly London. Because at this point it was 7 o'clock, and the sun had just started slowly going down. I pulled out my phone and checked the address Amelia had sent me, and directions to get there. I took the tube a few stops and when I tapped out the house wasn't far from where I was, so I started walking.

After I had gotten past the busy evening turning to the night life of the city, the busses and car sounds started to drift away. voices got quieter and more scattered, and the pavement went from wide and smooth to narrow and cobbly as I turned into an alleyway not far from the tower of London. Walking about 5 more minutes down, I reached a more suburban area. With unique townhouses.

Flower boxes hung from windows, and bikes with baskets were locked onto fences. There was an absence of cars, which told me it was mostly students living down this road and not families. The houses were a range of colors, and it looked like they were from all different eras. 60s, 70s, 2000s, it was mesmerizing. And so different from Michigan.

Taking in my sights, I realized I actually had to be looking for number 7, which I had gone past 20 houses ago.

Walking about 2 minutes back down the road, I found the house I was going to live in. Admiring its features, I noticed that it was a white-painted house, but the paint was chipping, exposing the red brick underneath. The house had large windows with Tudor designs, and the door was to the left of the front room window. It had a stained glass design on it, a singular rose. And before me, there was a large '7.' Which revealed I was at the right place.

Smiling largely, I reached my hand out to knock on the door, ready to see my old friend. But to my surprise, my phone started to ring.

'Jean is calling...'

I rolled my eyes at his disturbance and picked up the phone, immediately bombarded with multiple curses in French. He was asking me why I wasn't answering the phone, did I get to London safely, and that he was worried about me. I calmed him down and apologized for not picking up, and told him about what I had seen and how I was liking London. Eventually, he left me be and I put my phone back into my handbag.

I raised my arm to knock again, but the door swung open in front of me. Suddenly I was pulled into a warm embrace, Amelia's embrace.

She must have heard me speaking to Jean on the phone and decided to save me from knocking. She breathed into me and rocked me and her back and forth. I giggled.

“I have missed you so much, Amie.” I said into her embrace

Something I enjoyed about French was that my nickname for her, Amie, translated to 'friend'. So every time I said that word, I had a reminder of her, a bittersweet one.

“Oh, I missed you more than life, Lyla.”

Her accent had a slight British twinge, and it was strange, but I know my accent wasn't the same as it was either because there weren't many Americans to speak to in France, and if I did come across an English-speaking person, they were most likely British.

After our long embrace, she guided me inside the small townhouse. It was kind of like a condominium, because there was one room downstairs, and the rest were up a small set of stairs. Walking in I was greeted with dark green walls and a set of brown stairs. To the left of me was the door to what looked like a living room.

"Living room is here, sorry about the mess, I only just got here for the first time yesterday!"

Amelia had a kind of nervous look on her, I think she remembers how much of a neat freak I am.

"It's okay, I totally understand!"

"The Kitchen, bedrooms, and bathroom are all upstairs. weird I know!"

She said and giggled.

"I think it adds personality."

I nodded and laughed to myself.

It was like we had never stopped being friends. It also felt like this was my 800th time here. This house just felt like home straight away. I skimmed the empty walls and ran my fingers along the metal banisters going up the brown stairs as I followed Amelia up there.

Coming straight up the stairs we were met with an open-plan kitchen. The door to my room was to the left of the balcony, and the door to her room was to the right of the balcony. The balcony itself was situated at the opposite end of the kitchen area. There was a large space in the middle for a dining table.

"Wow this is beautiful Amie! A balcony! That's amazing."

I said, in awe of my surroundings.

"It's a beauty I know. The balcony looks over a small garden which we don't have access to for some reason, but whoever owns it does a good job at gardening, look at those plants!"

I walked over and saw that Amelia and I both had separate doors to the balcony from our rooms. I also saw the tremendous red rose bush that grew in the mysterious garden.

Just as I was about to open my mouth, my phone rang once again.

"Sorry. It's my boyfriend."

I answered the phone to Jean, annoyed once again. This time blaming me for taking his good towel with me. I didn't take any towels with me. I was so embarrassed in front of Amelia, so I told him I had to speak later, and ended the phone call when he was halfway through accusing me of always taking his things.

I think me and Jean constantly having to actually communicate with words was proving to be hard with him. He liked silence, and so did I, so having to speak to him on the phone instead of just being in his presence was hard for us. I had never heard him speak more than 5 sentences a day, and boy was he speaking more than five now. I had only been in London for an hour.

Amelia decided to ignore that little spat we just had, I appreciated it. She showed me to my room. I had cream-coloured walls and a large window, I could see more of the mystery garden, revealing a child-sized apple tree.

"Here's your room, you can take mine if you don't like this one, although I’m pretty sure they're about the same size."

She smiled as she waited for me to reply. I looked around once more, grinning.

"It's perfect."

I nodded at her as her smile grew bigger, and she ran over to me to hug me once more. 

"I'm so glad you love it." 

she said into the crook of my neck.

A phone started ringing again, but it wasn't mine this time, it was hers from the kitchen.

She excused herself and swiftly walked out of my room. I heard her answer the phone. There was some indistinct mumbling, and then I heard,

"What? That's awesome! Yeah sure! Oh wait, it's my new roommate's first day here though, Lyla, remember her?"

There was more indistinct rambling, then I heard Amelia approach my room.

"Hey Lyla..." Her hand was covering the speaker of the phone. 

"My brother Danny is in town with his band, they're playing a few shows in some pubs around, and he asked if he could crash here, are you fine with that? I know it's your first night and everything so I'd underst-"

I wondered if it was the same one from school, I figured it probably wasn't.

I cut her off because she was overthinking.

"oh my god! Danny? I would be thrilled Amie, I have missed your brother so much honestly! It's fine!"

She smiled and did a small jump, then took her hand off the speaker. She mouthed the words 'thank you' to me as she walked out.

A couple of hours went by and I decided to unpack what I had on my person.

I had a small suitcase filled with some essentials. Including a few sets of outfits, pajamas. Amelia left some blankets and a pillow for my bed. There was already a double bed in the room. It must have been left over from a previous tenant or something.

I made up my bed and decided to change into my pajamas. I kept them modest, as I knew Danny would be around soon, but I didn't mind being in pajamas at all, because I was comfortable with him before, and knew I'd be comfortable with him again.

I lied on my bed texting Jean, nothing special, I just told him I didn't have his towels. I had to send him proof they were not in my suitcase and then said goodnight to him as it was reaching 10 o'clock. He never replied.

As I was drifting off I was awoken by the door, I didn't move from my spot as I knew Amelia would answer. I heard her greet her brother,

but then I heard another male voice.

chapter 3

[samcatcher]

When in London.

masterpost + plot summary.

word count: 80,000+ slow burn.

Seven years ago, Sam pointed to the moon. What followed was France, A Firefighter, London, A Balcony, and a townhouse with peach-coloured walls and an upstairs kitchen.

Lyla didn't expect to ever see "someone" again. Especially not almost 4,000 miles from where they first met. Sam on the other hand, knew she would find her way back to him. Or rather, he'd find his way back to her.

chapters posted every few days.

Chapter list:

chapter 1. —— chapter 2. —— chapter 3. —— chapter 4. —— chapter 5. —— chapter 6 —— chapter 7 —— chapter 8 —— chapter 9 —— chapter 10

[samcatcher]

When in London.

Chapter 1 - Teaser masterpost

cw- drinking, puking.

Sam was pointing to the moon, but all I wanted to see was his hands. 

Amelia wanted to throw a gathering although it quickly got out of hand. It was supposed to be just me, her, and some other girls from our school. It wasn’t supposed to be a party at all but a party it was. We were 15. 

I watched people go from politely knocking at the door every 10 minutes, to just walking themselves in with large groups of people holding booze and other possible substances. Although it was scary, I was thrilled. I actually felt like some sort of accomplished adult.

Most of the people attending that night assumed it was Danny behind the party. He was older, by 5 minutes, although he was more outgoing and rebellious against his parents. He was the one in the band, which was rumored to be terrible, so I never investigated it further when I was a teenager.

There were people in their 20s with facial hair and bags under their eyes, smoking cigarettes and joints in her living room. Passing around drinks and as I said, other potential substances. These people, all recognisable, didn’t realize that the person behind this was the 15 year old girl who hides in her brother's shadow.

Looking back at it now, maybe she meant for it to get out of hand, so she could mean something to the town. Yet still Danny got the blame. 

Amelia didn't mind in the end because once her parents eventually found out, no matter what Danny said, they assumed he threw the party. 

I had never been to a party before. I came to the false conclusion in the first half an hour that I wanted to go to every single one I could find. I was running around telling everyone I’m a newfound party animal. Looking back at it now, I’m glad no one could remember what happened the next day. My town was small and quiet, north-west Michigan, Frankenmuth.

That’s probably why it got so out of hand. Everyone knew everyone.

For me, I was incredibly shy as a teenager. Therefore, most of the people I saw, I had never spoken to. Although I knew what family they were in, I knew what jobs they did. For example, standing by what used to be the clean, organized mantlepiece, now cluttered with cups, was Josh Kiszka. He worked at the local market, he had a booming voice. Looking over at him, I could hear him shouting

��Apples and pears! Melons and grapes! Fifty cents per pound!”

I knew he was in Danny’s deadbeat band. He was loud and didn’t stop talking about it. I could hear him shouting from the other side of the lunchroom. At the time, the only conclusion I made about Joshua was that he gave me a headache.

I laughed as I looked around the room. The only time I would see so many people together, from all different families, was at town hall meetings and school basketball games. I had never seen them so entertained. 

I turned the corner from the living room to the kitchen, lost in thought about town meetings and basketball games, when I was met with the eyes of the quiet boy who I had never caught a glimpse of in such low lighting, in such a done up way.

“Someone” Kizka was Josh’s brother. The difference between them was a visual example of pathetic fallacy. “Someone” was always thinking, Josh was always speaking. I say someone for comedic effect, at this time, I didn’t know Sam’s name at all. I blame this on our similarities. I was quiet too, therefore Sam probably didn’t know much about me either.

That night, I don’t know what changed in me, but I really saw him. I really looked at him.

As I took it all in, my expression shifted from lost in thought to slight shock. I tried to hide the visual scan I was doing of him but I was staring for so long I think he caught on. 

I was fixated on his slender frame, slightly tanned skin. Warm looking Auburn hair, slightly greasy. Sleepy brown eyes which matched his whole physique and uneven lips. His nose was slightly feminine and his neck was tall. His face was narrow and oval.

He was looking right at me.

He was so different that night, that’s the only way I could put it. It was as if the universe was telling me he was essential, or he would be at one point. He felt safe and comfortable. Like those people who you meet on the first day of school which draw you in with open arms and bond with you over the shared anxiety of being new.

Lost in my trance,  my brain suddenly registered all of the underage drinking I had done. A wave of nausea traveled up and down my body as someone walked by and I caught a whiff of either what was in their cup, or on their breath.

My only mission then was to escape outside, for fresh air followed by vomit.

I ran into Amelia’s garden and the summer night air hit me. There were a few people out there, respectfully smoking outside as opposed to inside. Although due to a broken porch light, the only light shone from the windows inside. Covering ninety percent of the garden with a blanket of darkness.

I was familiar with the garden, so the darkness didn’t intimidate me. Plus, I had to move quickly to avoid spewing in front of the adults standing by the door. I traveled down to what I knew was a large apple tree. I felt the stump with my hands and leaned my bare head against it, the bark was sharp on my forehead.

Concealed under the roof of the tree, I puked my guts out.

I was far from the house. The only music I could hear was the bass still somehow shaking the ground beneath me, curdling my stomach more. The sound of far-away bass was something I hated at the time. Eventually I learned to love it.

After being sick, my body regained its senses and I could feel drops of water on my shoulders from the leaves. I was caught in the middle of a summer rain.

I looked over at what once was the group of adults. Now, there stood only one person.

I left the comfort of the tree and felt the full natural spit of the rain. It wasn’t overwhelming. It felt almost like a heavy mist. It was humid but relieving, because there was a gentle wind which would cool my wet skin.

Eventually, after a few minutes of breathing and trying to soothe the now pounding headache, I started to shiver. So I made my way back inside.

I ran my fingers through my damp hair and slightly massaged my temples. I could feel him looking at me as I walked up to the only lit part of the garden.

The way the moonlight reflected on his defined face on the left, as opposed to the brightness on the right of his face was like a painting. I just wanted the world to stop so I could take a picture.

“You want a picture or something?” He asked, not shyly like I expected. More forced.

He stepped further into the light from the house. He shifted his eyes from mine and turned his head to the party inside. I could see the rain forming drips on his forehead. Both of us felt the vibrations of the music at our feet. 

“I just saw you inside, you recognise me from the band or something?” He asked.

That damn band. My expression turned from neutral to quizzed.

“Hey, you looked at me for ages. Then you basically ran into the darkness. I figured, I don't remember upsetting this girl, she must be a fan!” He explained himself, genuinely trying to sound the least cocky he could.

I laughed and shook my head.

“I just needed some fresh air, nothing personal to you. Do you always have to recall whether or not you’ve upset a girl? Do you upset a lot of them?” I moved closer to him and crossed my arms.

“The jealousy is supposed to start after you’re in love with me, or wait, are you, secretly?” He added in response to my teasing.

I shook my head and scoffed.

“I don’t even know your name.” I replied.

“It’s Sam.” He was shy now. Regretful of his initial words.

“I didn’t expect you to have such a big mouth, Sam.” I stated, a wide smile on my face as I squinted my eyes at him and pursed my lips.

He laughed off my comment and shifted his focus onto the night sky. He was silent as he scanned it, he smiled to himself. Then, he raised his arm up and pointed at the moon. 

“It’s so full tonight. Like tonight is important.” He whispered.

His arm stayed raised as he began pointing and rambling on about constellations and moon phases. When he spoke he moved his hand expressively. The lights from inside were dancing on them.

They were large, and lanky, like the rest of him. He had string bracelets on and a thumb ring. His fingernails were perfectly kept and ultra short. But the one thing that I liked the most, his fingers were calloused and rough. Red and irritated. From his instrument I guessed. I followed the way his hands were moving with my eyes, I was mesmerized. They were gracious and robotic. Not a shake nor a wobble. I could tell he was passionate.

Eventually he noticed that I hadn’t paid too much attention to his rambles and he stopped. He lowered his hand and turned to face me.

“What’s your name?” He asked me

I had forgotten.

“It’s Lyla?” I embarrassingly said in a questioning tone. Sam laughed.

“That’s a beautiful name.”

He stared at me for what felt like forever. Taking in every part of me. Remembering me.

“I hope I see you around.” He added.

Before I could say another word, he was back inside of the house. I stared into the darkness and felt the rain again. Softer than before.

I unexpectedly moved a week later. I drifted from Amelia too. Her parents grounded her and Danny when they found out about the party. To the point where I couldn’t even say goodbye to her. 

I was forced to go to France to care for my later great-grandmother as she was reaching old age. Amelia and I texted until there was no point. Sam and I never exchanged numbers and eventually, I forgot about the entire interaction. Soon to find out, seven years later, it was at the back of his mind for almost a decade.

chapter 2